Master of Desire, Slave to Lust
by TemptingTemptation
Summary: Vegeta is watching Bulma with an intensity of a predator, what is she doing to get so much attention?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: If I owned DBZ I wouldn't share, but I do fantasize about Vegeta, which apparently I have no problem sharing.

Hey Everyone!

Ever wonder where I got the idea for Fixation or why I ended Lab Monkey the way I did? Want to know if I'm going to post a third story for Free My Heart. Do you want to know what I think about the Vegeta and Bulma craze or just fanfiction in general? Here's your chance. This Sunday at 5pm PST I'll be appearing in a **live podcast** hosted by Mallie3 and MayMayB from the google plus Just Saiyan community. You can ask me questions by joining the community and posting questions on the forum that will be asked during the podcast. The link is on my profile. I hope to see you all there so we can chat!

Tempest

WARNING: Pointless lemon with meaningless plot. Oh yah. That would be a PWP. Sex that goes nowhere. Isn't that the best kind? BTW this is a masturbation fic. That means no touchy by the other person. At least not until later on.

For Evanscent, because she loves it when a too smart for her own good Bulma tries to control the evil, dominating prince…and fails.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY KEELY!

A/N: Some of you may recognize this from media miner. Every once in a while when I get the urge to write a new B/V I'll go back and read my older work to get into the mood. *wink* I try to look at the work with a critical eye and revamp it as I've done here. I hope you enjoy.

Master of Desire, Slave to Lust

Chapter One

Bulma had a lot of stress in her life. She was always on top. On top of business, in the top of her class, the top beauty, and always on top of her man. That was why when Yamcha had been wished home a year ago they never got back together. She had gotten tired of his cringing and he couldn't stand to be bossed around anymore. It was just as well, it gave her the time she needed to concentrate on her job at Capsule Corp. If one wanted to stay on top, then you had to work at it day and night, the weak dare not apply.

Because she had so much stress, Bulma enjoyed certain routines, her favorite being the one right before she went to bed. It allowed her the time she needed to unwind and relax after a day at the office. Her parents knew that when her door closed at precisely ten o'clock that she was not to be disturbed unless the building was burning down and even that was negotiable since the firewalls prevented flames from spreading.

On warm nights the first thing she did was cross her lavish bedroom, her toes curling in the thick cream carpet, to her west wall which was nothing more than a bank of glass doors leading out to the balcony. In the summer months her room became a sauna as the setting sun shone painted her room in fire before sinking below the horizon. Even though she could run the air conditioner to cool it down she preferred to open the French doors, allowing the evening breeze to blow out the stuffy air.

She would take her nightgown and her favorite jade green silk robe with her as she disappeared into her adjoining bathroom that was nearly as big as her bedroom. She would drop her day clothes down the laundry chute for the maid, sighing with relief as she took off her torture contraption called a bra. She would slip into her silky night things before washing her face with her sea salt scrub imported from the Aegean Sea. It cost her more money than it was worth, but that wasn't really the point.

Her face glowing and freshly scrubbed she would step back out into her bedroom and cross to her Victorian vanity handcrafted from rosewood to her specifications to hold her many cosmetics and creams. She ran the paddle bush through her hair that was specially created to disperse the oils from her scalp down the strands of her hair to the ends to prevent any breakage. After she passed the brush through her hair no less than a thousand times she would uncap her night cream that was guaranteed to prevent unseemly wrinkles that came with age, smoothing it on with long time ease. Bulma was a creature of refinement and luxury. It was all apart of the importance of the same ritual she had performing since she was ten and her mother sat her down and advised her that it was never too soon to preserve your beauty.

After an hour in front of the mirror she would turn her face from side to side, checking to make sure that her cream really was working before getting up and walking over to her massive silk draped bed to pull down the comforter. She would snap her fingers sharply to turn off the lights, placing her robe at the end of the bed while the room was dark before getting under the covers and falling into a dreamless sleep. In the morning, the screech of the alarm clock would wake her up to start all over again.

At some point she realized that something changed in her ritual. As she sat at her vanity she became aware that the night air was unnaturally silent. Her cool sapphire gaze drifted towards the balcony as she looked out into the star studded night. Her human eyes could not peer beyond the pool of light on the marble steps and she had to stand up to go outside to see more. She gracefully glided up to the balustrade, bracing her palms on the cool white marble.

She listened carefully, but there was not a sound, it seemed as if even the breeze stilled. Normally she would hear the comforting warble of the painted snipe, but this evening there was only deep silence. The kind that heralds a predator in the area, something she knew could not be true here in the heart of West City. She glanced down at the shadowy outline of the Gravity Room noting with little concern that it was shut down for the evening.

She shrugged her narrow shoulders, still sheathed in her jade robe and turned to go back inside. She sat down at the vanity picking up her expensive hand lotion and salved it on. She went to bed, unconcerned of the warning the night animals were trying to give her and fell into her usual slumber.

The next day she noticed the same phenomenon when she emerged from her bathroom, clad in her robe. The doors were ajar and the animals were again quietly hiding in their holes. She ignored it and sat down at her vanity, her mind wandering back and forth from the different projects she had going on at work.

Suddenly, with crystal clarity, an epiphany struck her. There was a predator outside, an evil beast that was watching her as she sat unafraid at her vanity.

Her hard gem colored eyes flashed in the lamp light as her narrowed gaze centered on the darkness beyond her door. She felt the pulse in her neck jump and her heart increased a pace or two but her outward appearance remained immobile and calm. She dismissed the darkness and the predator just outside the reach of the light, turning back to pick up her face cream. As she smoothed it on her perfect porcelain features, she thought over her new revelation and just what exactly she was going to do about it.

To her own surprise, her usually clear and logical mind already knew what she was going to do. Nothing. She would say nothing, do nothing and change nothing.

She stood up from the vanity, crossing over to her bed. She snapped her fingers and her room was flooded with the darkness from outside. Without fear she slipped the robe from her shoulders like she did every night, crawling under the covers and turning on her side.

Let Vegeta watch. It did not concern her. He changed nothing. She fell asleep with those thoughts solidly in her mind, but for the first time in months she dreamed of something other that money and inventions. She dreamed of sweat and flesh, of taste and sound. She dreamed of a man.

The weeks wore on, still Vegeta watched and Bulma ignored him. It became a routine and Bulma was comfortable with that, but then she began to think as she sat in front of her vanity. Think about the prince and his strange ways, his dark penetrating gaze and his rude demeanor. She thought about the special attention that he paid her and how she reciprocated in her own way.

He ignored her parents with the stoicism of a true warrior, a great feat indeed when it came to her bubbly mother who wanted only to feed and pet him like he was a new animal for her menagerie. He paid no mind to the occasional Z fighter that stopped by and far as she knew he didn't even see Goku. She suspected that he had no desire to meet his rival and have his own power assessed. A strategist to the core, she was certain that he more than likely spied on her best friends while remaining unseen.

She had never met a man like him before. Confident to a fault, he took no quarter from his enemies and gave none in return. His need to control his environment, every little thing around him, fascinated and repulsed her. She watched his every move when she could, studying his mastery of any situation, while trying her hardest to avoid allowing him even the smallest amount of persuasion over her. He was so strong, so completely feral, but he was tamed by reason that she could not comprehend. He did nothing without assessing the consequence. His very manner, the way he walked, the way he moved was precise, without a wasted moment of inaction.

He drifted through their house utterly silent, a guest without substance. He refused the room they offered, instead preferring the one in the training pod. He took only food from them as he felt it was his right to do so. The only other demand he made was the upkeep to his Gravity Room and nothing more. Otherwise he did not acknowledge their presence.

But for her he spoke.

One word demands and cutting insults. And whenever they were alone together he would drop the one word on her that was sure to throw her into a queen sized rage. _Slave._ He would call her. He would always whisper the word endearingly into her ear, being sure that no one else could hear.

How dare he? She was no man's slave. She was Bulma Briefs. The cream at the top. The best of the best. A princess in her own right.

She fought his control at every turn and yet he still watched her. She struggled to maintain her nightly ceremony without interruption. To show him that he could not best her. She would not change her routine for him. But then sinuous thoughts began to wind themselves around her brain, teasing her with ideas that were so innocent at first, but they only led down the path of shadows.

He taunted her with his presence nightly outside her window, but only she controlled what he saw. Something dark took seed inside her thoughts as she sought to gain the upper hand. She was a beautiful woman and for all of his control he was just a man. How she would laugh if she could lure him to her only to throw his advances back in his face. The arrogant Prince of All Saiyans needed to have his ego crushed. He needed to realize that the only slave around here was him. Soon he was going to be a slave to his own lust, compliments of a devious Bulma Briefs.

She started slowly, changing her routine subtly so he wouldn't notice right away. Instead of exiting her bathroom with her silk jade robe, she wore only a pale yellow nightgown. It was less racy than some of her evening wear, falling to just above her knee, with thin straps over her shoulders, leaving her back partially bare. She sat at her vanity, brushing her hair changing nothing else in her routine.

The next day she stealthily tried to gage Vegeta's reaction, but he behaved as if nothing was different and they went their separate ways. This went on for some weeks, her nightgowns became more and more revealing, until finally after careful brain wracking consideration she decided on the next step. Instead of taking her clothes with her to the bathroom, she changed in the full light of her bedroom. She stood with her back to the balcony as she stripped off her business suit and stuffed it down the chute before casually walking over to her dresser to pull out a red teddy that was almost indecent. She retreated to the bathroom to wash her face, the entire time her body tense.

She released a hidden sigh of relief when she exited and the now strangely comforting silence still echoed outside. He hadn't left. But he hadn't approached her yet either. He was still in the shadows, watching her from afar. Her lure wasn't enough of a temptation yet.

Her ritual at night became a strip tease that served to arouse her unlike anything she had ever experience before. She was no virgin and she had been with other men besides Yamcha, but she never felt this amount of excitement. As she let her clothes fall to the floor she would imagine Vegeta sitting outside, just beyond the pool of light, his dark, emotionless eyes flaming with desire. With her eyes closed, her hands would trail down her body to unzip her skirt and behind her lids she would see visions of Vegeta's hand stroking down his own hard body to cup the arousal that she had invoked in the palm of his hand.

By the evenings end she would fall into her bed, tossing and turning for an hour before finally falling asleep. The hot burn of lust between her legs nearly drove her mad, but she dared not assuage her needs since the night her bedroom had become a stage.

Always in the morning she would peer closely at Vegeta from behind her newspaper, looking for subtle changes in him, but seeing nothing. His black eyes did not linger over long on her, nor did he touch her.

That was the source of her truest frustration. She had never noticed until now that he never of his free will touched her. She had brushed up innocently against him many times, but he never deigned to lay a hand on her. Even when he was leaning close to whisper his one word slur in her ear, only the heat of his body and his breath touched her, never his flesh.

She had taken to going to his Gravity Room dressed in her greasy gray overalls, which was not entirely out of place. However, what only Bulma knew was that she wore nothing underneath. The course fabric dragged at her sensitive skin, so no matter how hard she concentrated on fixing his ship, she never forgot that she was just a zip and shrug away from being naked. She lowered the zipper between her breasts, teasing the prince with a glance of the treasures revealed to him each night. She would enter his sacred space repair the damages that he wrought with his violent training, before slipping away without a word of exchange.

Whenever she entered his domain he would watch her with unsettling intensity. His brooding eyes cataloged her every move as though he didn't trust her. He would fold his arms across his chest, his body immobile and his face set in stone. Only his eyes moved as they trailed after her as she flitted from one console to another.

Then one night Bulma just snapped. She had been locked in a room with most of the Capsule Corp board members for nearly ten hours as they rehashed the next fiscal year's budget. Her stress level had reached its max and more than once she had thrown one of her famous Bulma Briefs tantrums that made most people quake in their boots. By the time she had returned home it was well past her normal ten o'clock hour and that only increased her anxiety. She had missed their scheduled time together.

She entered her room in a distressed frazzle. She rushed across the thick Persian carpet, throwing open the balcony doors and stepping outside. She lifted her face to the night air, allowing the moon to drench her in its rays. She held her breath listening for the slightest noise and hearing nothing. She exhaled loudly, opening her sapphire eyes to scan the area. She could see nothing, but she knew he was there, waiting for her to return.

She retreated to her room, her domain, stripping off her clothes as she went. The last item of clothing drifted to the ground as she reached the center of her room and she paused with her back still to the door.

Her long teal hair was pinned up in a business coif and with intimate slowness she reached up to pull out the pins. Strands of hair spilled out of the twist, coiling at the ends and trailing down the pale expanse of her back. She loved the tease, she loved the control.

When all of the pins had been dropped to the floor she turned to face the bank of open doors. She furrowed her fingers through her long blue hair, drawing her head back to expose the pale length of her throat as she massaged her scalp. Her round breasts were thrust out, her pink nipples hard with arousal as she posed for the man who stood in the dark. The skin pulled tight over her ribs, accentuating her tight waist and flat midriff before flaring out into delicate hips. She was beautiful and she knew it. After so many years of hearing it, seeing it, saying it, then it could only be true.

Her eyes drifted closed so she could better imagine the prince who waited outside. He must be lusting after her, hardened and heavy, inflamed by the sight of her. How could he not be? She trailed her fingertips down the length of her neck, gliding over her collarbone to cup her generous breast. At her touch, soft tingles of sensation skittered down her spine, hardening her nipple painfully.

Her other hand trailed down to join its mate and the erotic due chased away all of her stress, her fear and logical thought as she concentrated on the pleasure she was giving herself. Sightlessly she walked over to her bed, falling back, while her legs still hung over the edge. One hand skimmed down her stomach, past her manicured nest of curls to her center of sensation.

She was already wet and her body writhed under her touch as she teased herself. She didn't need a fantasy to coax her flames of desire to life. All she needed was the image of Vegeta standing in the darkness watching her as she pleasured herself.

She wondered as her hand found its way between her legs if his was doing the same. Was his large fist curled around this thick, hard erection? Had he pulled it out from his pants to feel the night air as he pumped in and out of his hand? He would be huge she knew. Her fantasy would not allow him to be any other way.

She squeezed her breast, pinching her nipple as she imagined his strong white teeth nipping at the crowning flesh. Her fingers teased her swollen cleft until she was slick with excitement. Her feet found their way up to the edge of the bed, her knees bent and her body arching.

Was he edging closer to the light? Did he wish that he was between her thighs, his heavy weight pushing her down on the bed while her legs wound around his narrow hips? Her fingers slid past her cleft, finding their way into her. She was hot and wet and she could feel her muscles clenching around her. Was he fucking himself right now with his hand, wishing that his hard cock was inside of her?

Behind her eyelids the images danced and Bulma couldn't stop the soft moans of pleasure that escaped her lips. She could feel his weight on her as he thrust inside of her, stretching her to the limit. Most importantly, in her fantasy he was touching her. His strong hands were sliding over her pale skin, caressing her delicate flesh, teasing her to new heights of pleasure.

With that image burned into her brain she came on her hand, her body bowing off the bed as she let out a satisfied cry of bliss. Her eyes rolled back in her head and the bright lamp light shattered into a thousand fragments behind her lids. The waves crashed on top of her, until finally slowing to soft ebb. Her body throbbed and pulsed with the after effects of her orgasm and she had to take a few minutes to compose herself.

As she laid there, her body sated, a mortifying heat crept up her frame. She had meant to tease the prince with what he couldn't have but instead she had given into her lust and pleasured herself while he watched. The entire point was to turn him away if he approached her, but now after such a detailed fantasy of the bliss he could give her she didn't know if she would. She just might take him up on the offer and that scared her. It scared her because she knew that she wouldn't be the one in control if they went to bed together.

She snapped her fingers, not daring to look into the night as the darkness descended on the room. She wrapped the covers around her, finding solace in her silk sheets and the night that made her invisible. She fell into a relaxed slumber never realizing that the predator just outside her open door could see with daylight clarity under the cover of darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: We all know that I don't own DBZ or the characters herein, which is a good thing cause it would have ended up as just one long hentai.

Don't forget to join the Just Saiyan Community. They do live podcasts every couple of weeks with your favorite DBZ authors! Their link is on my profile page.

A/N: For the most part I think that women fantasize. We create a whole subplot for our plot just to explain why we are with a guy who doesn't really exist. Guys on the other hand, more than likely focus on T & A. I could be wrong, but for the sake of this chapter I'm going with that theory.

Master of Desire, Slave to Lust

Chapter Two

Bulma was a brooder. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing. After all that's how she solved most of her invention crises. She'd dwell long and hard on a problem until the answer came to her. Unfortunately, she could find no solution to her current dilemma. That dilemma being her utter and thorough disgust of a certain snobbish Saiyan.

The next day after her show, she didn't even get an eyebrow arch from the prince. Nothing. Just normalcy. Bulma had to resist the urge to stomp her foot like a two year old. She didn't want normal. She wanted him panting after her like every other male in her sphere had done her entire life. She wanted him to want her.

Annoyed, Bulma decided on the only true path of the scorned. Revenge. What's good for the goose is good for the gander her mother always said, which got her stuck in her second dilemma. The fact that Vegeta was eyeballing her with the intensity of a snake ready to strike.

She entered his GR confident that she would be able to slip in and out before Vegeta even knew she was there. Of course, nothing ever went as planned lately. As she was leaving he had come in, pinning her to the spot with his distrustful black eyes. She folded her hands behind her back, trying to look inconspicuous while attempting to hide her tool bag. There was nothing unusual about her being in his GR with tools, but these were not her normal wrench and socket. What she had in her hands were utensils for dealing with more delicate apparatuses, something in the vicinity of small spy cameras.

Vegeta stalked slowly up to her, stopping only inches from her. He put her instantly on edge, as his eyes swept her from head to foot. She had the weirdest sensation that he knew she was naked under her jumpsuit.

"What are you doing?" The question wasn't a barked demand, but a velvety trap of smooth octaves. The words slid past her stomach to wrap themselves around her spine, urging her to arch her back and settle her already pertly aroused breasts against his hard chest.

"What's it look like Vegeta?" Her question wasn't nearly as silky, wariness putting a sharp edge in her tone. When all else fails, fall back onto sarcasm was her motto.

"It looks like you are snooping around where you shouldn't be." Impossibly his voice seemed to grow softer, but the underlying threat curled tightly around her, squeezing the air from her lungs.

Bulma sniffed and looked away, wondering how she was going to get out of this one. "This is my GR Vegeta. I can be in it if I want to, but if you must know I was just running a diagnostic on the computer. You need to stop being so suspicious of everyone." What she really meant was that he needed to stop being so suspicious of her. Especially in lieu of their nighttime activities.

Vegeta leaned closer, dipping close to her neck and inhaling deeply. He could smell the lie on her, but it didn't concern him. He knew that whatever she had done, it wouldn't result in his death or detriment. She was far too humane to think of trying to kill him. But she was definitely up to something.

He took another breath inhaling the odor that lingered on her body past the lie. He'd never tire of her scent. It was unlike anything he had ever smelled before. It was tangy with vitality, whipped with sex appeal and rich with life. _Life_. Something completely foreign to him. It wasn't until coming to this planet that he realized that such a scent existed. Before now all he had ever scented was death. He was saturated in it. It infiltrated his skin, coating his mouth and nostrils, living in his lungs. Everyone he had ever had contact with up until now smelled the same way. Either they had the rotting stench of death on their clothes or the fear of their emanate demise slicked on their skin. Death had been everywhere around him.

But this woman. She didn't even fully understand the meaning. She had never been completely touched by it. To her death was just a wish away from being rectified. She bathed in life, reveled in it, and was the very embodiment of it. He found himself instantly attracted to it.

His eyes skimmed down her body, taking in her gray overalls, stained with grease. All he had to do was grasp the zipper, pulling it down to reveal her beautiful body to his hard gaze. He knew she was naked underneath, the bounce of her unbound breasts told him so. Along with her vitality he could smell her sated desire still lingering on her skin and her newly aroused lust simmering beneath the surface. But mostly he could smell her need. Her need to be touched by him.

He pulled away slightly, just enough to meet her wide eyes before his lips dipped down to her ear. "You are lying to me, Slave." He drew out the word slave, enunciating it carefully so she felt the full effect.

Bulma quivered as Vegeta leaned in to sniff her. She barely resisted the urge to wrap her arms around his neck and hold on until he forced her to let go. She didn't want that though. She didn't want to do the touching, she wanted to be touched. When he pulled back to look into her eyes she felt a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. She knew the words before she heard the predicted slur came.

How she hated him. His dominating presence, his wholly male stance. He thought he could talk down to her. He thought he could try to make her feel inferior, but he was wrong. She was top bitch in this world and one way or another he was going to learn it.

Vegeta held back his tiny grin when he felt the change in her body. In a flash she went from lustful to angry, both of which were just as arousing to him. She drew back, her perfect bow shaped lips twisting into a snarl of rage, her eyes burning with blue fire.

He watched with serene detachment as she brought her hand back with human slowness and whipped it across his jaw. He sat unmoving as her eyes went from angry to pained before returning to angry again. She cradled her injured hand against her stomach and Vegeta's cruel lips curled into a mocking smile.

She hissed in frustration and Vegeta could read the hate in her eyes. A sight he was intimately familiar with. "I am not a slave!" She spat with venom, but Vegeta ignored her, his attention snared by her flushed face and heaving breasts. His fingers curled at his sides as the urge to reach out and unzip her coveralls lanced through him.

Last night he had seen every intimate detail of her body, but instead of sating his lust it only enflamed it. He watched her nightly, aware that she knew he was there. It was his own personal ritual. A way for him to relax. Watching her soothed him like music does the savage beast. But he would not give in. He would not touch her until he got what he wanted.

He had been born to rule, but his entire life had been spent in slavery. He was meant for power, for domination, but it had been stripped from him before he even knew the meaning of the word subjugation. Frieza the most powerful being in his universe, in his existence, had been destroyed and now he had nothing.

This woman, however, had everything. She had no pedigree yet she ruled her world with a hand full of gold and a tongue dipped in silver. She had the ability to raise an army and raze this pathetic civilization to the ground if she desired. Yet, here she stood. All that power, all that control wasted in her small, delicate hands while all of his life he had dreamt of that sort of supremacy. Of course on a much grander scale, but her complete short sightedness was still disturbing.

Vegeta's eyes darkened and Bulma felt a shiver of fear run through her. When he didn't react to either her attack or hurled comment she decided a tactical retreat was best. Whenever he was so coldly unresponsive it unnerved her. She would give up half her fortune just to see what was going on inside his head during those moments.

Vegeta watched with sly amusement as she skirted around him and made for the exit post haste. She still hadn't told him the truth as to why she had been in there but he was confident that he could figure it out. He stood staring at the closed door that she had exited through for some minutes before he inhaled deeply his thick chest expanding with the effort.

He found her spore wafting in the air leading him to his quarters beneath the Gravity Room. He lifted the hatch, disdaining the ladder as he floated down to the sparse room. His dark eyes swept the area, taking in the narrow cot that was pushed up against the steel wall, the starched linens tucked under the mattress in neat military fashion.

Behind him stood the door to the kitchen and in front of him was the way to the bathroom. To his left was a TV, facing the cot on the opposite wall. It was Dr. Briefs attempt to make the warrior more comfortable, spouting some nonsense about every man needing to watch sports.

As his gaze brushed by the TV, he saw what she had done instantly though it was cleverly hidden in the wall. He didn't pause in his sweep not wanting the little female to know that her game was up. With sure, steady steps he walked into the dreary bathroom, similar to so many he had seen in his lifetime. Only the necessities nothing more. The shower was hardly more than a water nozzle and a drain in the floor. He had taken off on the ship to look for Kakarot before they had installed a shower door and now that he had returned, he hadn't allowed anyone into this area of the ship to improve it.

He turned to face the mirror that was bolted over the sink and he could barely restrain his smirk. Here too she had installed a camera so she could watch him as he showered. What a little minx. Apparently she was fed up with him getting all the fun and she wanted to see what she was missing. He was thoroughly amused by her antics and he was more than pleased to appease her. Besides it helped advance his own cause.

He stepped away from the mirror turning his back to face the shower. With one smooth motion he stripped his training armor, allowing it to fall in a careless heap to the ground. He stretched his arms around his front, flexing the muscles in his back to loosen them as he walked towards the shower, silently choking back his laughter.

Bulma stomped into her home office in high dungeon, scattering assistants on her way. Although this wasn't her official VP office in the main building there were still CC employee's who worked in this area. Everyone knew better than to interrupt her after she stomped into her office, slamming her door on the way.

She was still dressed in her coveralls, forgetting to change out of them in her anger. She shrugged as she sat behind her desk, figuring could change after she checked to make sure she was getting a visual on the cameras she had installed in Vegeta's room.

She flipped on the monitor and keyed up the cameras, receiving her first images. Bulma's jaw almost hit her desk when she saw Vegeta move fluidly towards his shower, his bare buttocks clenching with every step. The muscles in his back rippled and Bulma was so enthralled that she didn't notice when she moved closer to the screen to get a better look. Every inch of his skin was bronze, even where she expected him to be a little paler. His skin tone was one hundred percent natural, no fake tans for this man.

He turned on the water and as he moved she could see the definition of every muscle needed for the action. There was not an inch of spare fat on him. There were only thee layers. Thick, heavy muscle on bone, overlaid by delicious golden caramel skin. Bulma mouth was suddenly dry and she leaned over without taking her eyes off the screen to pull out a soda from the small fridge built into her desk.

She popped the can open taking a deep pull as Vegeta stepped into the shower. He turned sideways and braced his hand on the wall by his head, allowing the stream of water to pound into his shoulders, the rivulets sliding down his back and chest before dripping off to swirl down the drain.

Bulma licked her lips again and took another swallow, watching with rapt attention as Vegeta just stood without moving, posing like a solid bronze statue. After a few minutes his other hand that had hung loosely by his side began to move, rubbing circles over his chest and down his ribbed stomach. Bulma's pulse jumped, but she was ultimately frustrated by his stance. His leg was cocked up slightly, blocking her view of what she wanted to see most. He allowed the water to stream over him and it seemed to her that he was only in there to rinse the day away and not to do any serious scrubbing.

She squint her eyes, trying to see through a thick haze, before realization kicked in. She slapped her hand over her forehead as the lens of her camera clouded up from steam. She set her elbow on the desk, resting her forehead in her hand while she watched the bedroom cam for any movement. The camera faced the bed and the limited view infuriated her. She made a mental note to go back into Vegeta's quarters as soon as she was brave enough and set up a few more cameras to give her a better layout. Especially in the bathroom. She would have to order some special lenses that were resistant to steam.

Her head jerked back up when she saw the shadow of movement off to the side of the camera. She inhaled deeply when Vegeta walked into view, his back to her and a white towel firmly situated around his hips. This camera had the ability to zoom in which she did on his back. She frowned when she saw numerous white lines littering his body, which could be no other than scars.

She watched as Vegeta settled on the bed, his back braced against the wall with his knees drawn up loosely. He still had the towel wrapped around him, leaving the frustration to grow inside of Bulma. He leaned his head back staring up at the ceiling, his arm resting over his stomach.

She took the opportunity to examine his trim body. She had seen him without a shirt before, but never this relaxed. She could see the definition of every muscle, of every sinew and she was amazed at the amount of dedication it took to form his body into the unstoppable machine that it was.

Even as his body was curved into a slouch on the bed, his abdominal muscles were still perfectly proportioned, no bulge of fat to be seen. She watched as his fingers trailed absently along the indentations of his stomach and she saw something stir beneath the white towel. Bulma's grip on her can tightened as she realized that Vegeta was aroused by something.

Vegeta knew she was watching him. His keen hearing had heard the infinitesimal whirl of the camera as she had zoomed in on his back. He had faced away from her, uncertain of what he was going to do, but in the end he knew what he wanted. He lay back on the bed, positioning himself so she had the perfect view of his body. He leaned his head back, absently thinking about what attracted him to he blue haired wench.

She had spirit that was for certain. With all that fire that burned inside of her, she was sure to be a spitfire in bed. Her stamina would be nothing compared to his, but he would lay money that it would be exhausting to a human male.

Her ass was definitely a fine asset as well. He could watch her walk away from him all day. Several times he had to snap his eyes away before someone noticed that he was staring. As he watched through her balcony windows, the sheer ivory curtains whipping in and out of the room, blocking his view from time to time, he had marveled at the perfection of her body.

Everything about her was soft and rounded, begging to be touched by a man. Her skin reminded him of thick cream and he licked his lips with the urge to taste her. What would she taste like he wondered. Would she be smooth and sweet or would she be spicy hot? How he ached to run his tongue along her body and find out.

Bulma's wide-eyed gaze darted from Vegeta's growing erection to his face and she was surprised to see his features lax in repose, his eyes firmly shut. If she wasn't mistaken, he was having a fantasy. She leaned back in her chair, but she just as quickly sat forward again. She was aware that her heart rate was increasing and she wiggled at the heat burning at the apex of her thighs in response to the prince.

The bulge beneath the towel swelled and Bulma swallowed hard, watching as Vegeta unwrapped himself. When he was finally revealed, the can that Bulma was holding fell from her numb fingers as her mouth rounded in shock. He was so much bigger than she had imagined.

He was thick, long and just as defined as the rest of him. She watched in rapt fascination as he wrapped his fingers loosely around his erection, sliding his hardened flesh through his fist. He squeezed the large tip with his thumb and forefinger, before thrusting his narrow hips up off the bed. The muscles in his thighs and calves tensed while his abs rippled. As he pumped his hand his bicep bulged and chest flexed, giving her a visual overkill of the perfection of his body.

As he stroked himself, she wondered what he was thinking about. Was he fantasizing about her? About what she would be doing to him right now? Instantly Bulma became jealous of his hand, knowing full well she could do better. She imagined going down to his room, crawling between his legs and knocking that hand away.

The oxygen in the room became thin and her panting matched the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest. Her eyes darted guiltily towards her closed office door while at the same time she partial unzipped her coveralls, allowing her hand to slip beneath the course cloth to caress her taut nipples.

In her vision she looked up to see his dark eyes glaring down at her, not saying a word, almost daring her to continue. Her mouth watered with the anticipation of tasting him and she knew that her mouth would feel so much better than his rough callused hand.

She watched as he continued to thrust into his fist, his eyes still tightly closed. The tendons in his neck stood out starkly as he clenched his jaw shut, his brow furrowing in concentration.

After these long weeks Vegeta could recall Bulma's body with intimate detail, down to the luscious bounce of her breasts. Her naked body would be the softest he had ever touched, he knew for certain. His cock hardened and he wrapped his fist around it tightly.

So many times he'd imagined walking through her open doors, until he stood behind her as she sat primping at her vanity. She would try to talk of course and he nearly snarled at the thought. In his fantasy he pinned her down to the bed, stuffing the sheets into her mouth, ordering her to bite down. He'd spread her legs wide, her pale thighs quivering under his touch. His thumb would brush over her swollen clit, testing the dampness of her body. Then he would lever himself up, towering over her so to allow only the apex of their thighs to meet. Her body would shiver under his and he'd watch as his cock disappeared into her wet pussy. He'd fuck her hard until she screamed, her tits bouncing with every thrust. She'd scratch her nails down his arms and back as she held on to him for dear life while riding his cock.

Bulma was unaware of her actions as she lowered zipper to her crotch, baring her breasts fully to the air as she massaged them. She imagined what it would be like to take Vegeta's hard cock into her mouth, to taste the salty precum on his reddened tip. He was so big that she wouldn't be able to take all of him and she would have to wrap her hand around the base. He would pump into her mouth with an expression of rapture. Her other hand would trail down to between her thighs and she would tease herself as she fucked him with her mouth.

As she sat in her office, her real hand found its way between her legs and teased her swollen clit. She sat back in her chair, spreading her legs wide so she could feel everything. Once again she glanced at the door, certain that any minute one of her employees would walk in, or worse, her father.

She looked back at the screen to see that Vegeta was pumping his hand faster, his muscles flexing with the effort. Bulma panted as the tight coils of frustrated pleasure wrapped themselves around her lower spine. Her toes curled when she imagined Vegeta hauling her up by her hair and urging her down on his thick cock. His fingers digging into her hips as she slid down his length, taking every inch of his engorged flesh into her. She rode her fingers as she rode him in her dream, fantasizing that his hands roved over skin, touching her everywhere.

She teetered on the edge of bliss and her mouth sagged open as she sucked in great panting breaths. She never took her eyes off the screen, watching as Vegeta's own body tensed with expectation. Suddenly his fathomless eyes snapped forward, locking with hers through the monitor. She hissed in shock, absolutely sure that he could see her through the camera. She couldn't stop the crest she was riding and she stared into his eyes as she crashed over the edge of the erotic abyss.

Vegeta felt the intense pressure gather at the base of his cock and he knew that was going to cum any second. He dispersed his fantasy, focusing his wavering gaze on the obscure dot above the TV. He wanted her to know that he knew she was watching. He wanted her to know that he was the one in control.

Bulma saw Vegeta's lips curl back from his fangs and she berated herself for the fact that she had no audio because she was sure he was growling. He jerked his fist and a splash white cream splattered onto his stomach and chest. He pumped his hand a few more times, his hips undulating in response.

Bulma sat there for a moment, her coveralls gapping open in the front as she watched the mysterious prince. He glared defiantly up at the camera for a few more moments before levering himself off the bed and snatching up the towel that had lain almost forgotten under him. She saw him swipe at his stomach before he walked off the screen, leaving her alone in her cold office.

She quickly zipped up her coveralls, grabbing some paper towels to clean up the mess left by her soda. Once she was finished, she turned off her computer and silently left her office with a great less aplomb than she had entered. She returned to her room to take a cold shower and change into more appropriate clothing.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ. I wouldn't be able to keep my hands off Vegeta long enough to write a script anyways.

Master of Desire, Slave to Lust

Chapter three

Bulma had a date. Not a particularly exciting date, but this guy had promise. He was a lawyer, ruthless in the courtroom with a personality that was uncompromising and self confident. Rumor had it that he was a real ball breaker.

She wondered how long it would last before she intimidated him into submission.

Bulma stood behind the couch, absently playing with her earring as she watched the evening news. She finished her preparations early, and now she stood two feet from the door, checking her wristwatch every three seconds. Technically, her date wasn't late. He still had five minutes on the clock. Kami, she was bored.

"Going somewhere?"

She felt him before she heard him. Her entire body was engulfed in his heat as he materialized behind her. He was close enough that if she leaned back a fraction, she would feel the hard plane of his body pressed against hers, but still far enough away to avoid touching her. His hands were braced on the couch. His strong arms encircling her, but not really. Always so close, yet so far.

His soft voice feathered down her spine as he whispered in her ear and instantly she felt the flames of desire fan to life.

"Out," she replied shakily, the television was completely forgotten as she focused on the mirror on the far side of the wall. She met his heavy gaze in the reflection, his dark hair contrasting starkly with her blue tresses. Although he was only a few inches taller than her, he was wider and his shoulders menaced her from behind, throwing her in his shadow. When he didn't reply or move away she felt compelled to explain.

"I have a date," she said with as much authority as she could muster. She didn't know why she felt a sudden unease skitter down her spine. She knew he wouldn't care if she went out and bought a whole football team just to have sex with. They would touch her, she thought with some bitterness.

"Found another toy to play with? How long do you think it will take before you break this one?" Vegeta asked and Bulma could hear the amusement in his voice. He was referring to the other men she dated in the last year. In the end they had all run away, too afraid to be under the shadow of the most powerful, wealthiest woman in the world. They couldn't compete with her popularity and they felt emasculated by the sheer amount of authority she had over every aspect of her daily life. Those who wanted her only for her money, scrapped on hands and knees to please her until she tossed them aside unsatisfied, and those who just wanted the reputation of bedding her soon wilted under her icy glare. She had yet to find a man who was her match.

Bulma shrugged nonchalantly, hiding the deep hurt that festered resentfully in her chest. Why couldn't she find a man who could handle her high paced, adrenaline driven lifestyle? "A few dates at least. He's supposed to be a blood-sucking lawyer. A real asshole." She had taken to dating men who were undesirable when it came to relationships. They too were used to being wanted only for their money or reputations and so they had developed a veneer of impenetrability that turned most women away, but one had yet to withstand the force of will that was Bulma Briefs.

Vegeta snickered and Bulma's answering sneer curled on her lip becomingly. Vegeta could see her reflection and his blood began to heat. She was so utterly ruthless when it came to business and love. She gave no quarter to anyone and woe to those who tried to stop her in her headlong path of domination. She had to be the best at everything. Always on top.

"The games you play with these males are a waste of time. They will never give you what you want." Bulma broke away from their locked gaze, startled at the depth of his insight. She was starting to the realize she would never be happily married. She was going to end up alone, the head of the biggest corporation in the world, working twelve hour days with the knowledge that no one waited for her at home.

When she didn't reply Vegeta leaned in closer, his body only a whisper away. Bulma's eyes drifted shut and she indulged herself in the short fantasy of him closing the gap and touching her. She heard him inhale deeply and the familiar desire pulsed in her veins.

"Isn't there a game here that you would rather play?" Vegeta didn't want her to leave. He could care less that she was going out with some other male. He wouldn't get very far with the uptight female anyways. But he disliked the thought of missing their time together. They had an established ritual and he didn't want that disrupted by something as silly as a date.

Bulma tensed and her knees locked together to keep her standing at the first reference the prince had made of their unusual relationship. She couldn't believe that he was actually acknowledging it. Her heart jumped and her pulsed raced. Her lower body became heavy with arousal almost instantaneously. He wanted to see her again tonight. He wanted to see her cum for him.

"Maybe I will bring him home." Bulma shuttered at the amount of heat her suggestion elicited from Vegeta. She could feel him weighing the options, visualizing the outcome and deciding on a path. She wondered what it would be like to have sex with another man while Vegeta watched in the shadows. Would it be exhilarating or frightening? Perhaps, both?

Vegeta silently absorbed her statement, visions of her entwined with another male swimming around in his head. He fought to keep a frown from forming on his unreadable features. He wanted to see the female naked and writhing, and he certainly didn't want another male blocking his view.

"I don't think you would like that. It would get in the way of your fantasies of me, slave." She shivered at his words, almost missing his use of slave, but she chose to ignore it for now. Already she was having fantasies of him. She wanted him to press his hand into the center of her back and push her face first over the edge of the couch. She needed to feel the touch of his hands sliding up the back of her thighs, flipping her dress up over her hips. She pressed her legs together as she imagined him pulling her panties down to her knees, not even bothering to make sure they came off all the way, before releasing that deliciously huge cock from his pants.

She knew he would caress it gently with his hand, pumping it a few times while he considered the pale underside of her bottom and her deep cleft. Without preparing her he would nudge his thick head against her entrance, daring her to try to take him into her tight passage without spreading her legs.

She met his gaze in the mirror again and she noted that her face was flushed. She curled her fingers into the soft material of the couch, barely seeing him through the barrage of thoughts of his engorged flesh pushing past her swollen lips to thrust home inside of her. She buckled against the couch as the force of her fantasy ricocheted inside of her. She saw Vegeta smile secretly at her from across the room as he inhaled, his shoulders expanding behind her.

She knew he could smell her. That he knew what she was thinking, but she wasn't embarrassed. She was mad. She was pissed that he didn't act on it. That he didn't take one of his hands off the couch to find its way under the short hem of her dress and dip his fingers into her aching heat. _Why didn't he touch her?_

Her tormented thoughts were interrupted by the chime of the doorbell. His eyes darkened and the pleased smile melted from his face only to be replaced by a mocking one. He cocked his head towards the door, shadows in his eyes. "Your new toy is here."

"Hn. Let's hope that he is more interactive than my current one," she spat with contempt. His black eyes flared with irritation and a hint of amusement that confused her.

She stepped to the side, not in the least surprised when Vegeta moved his arm to avoid touching her. She hissed in wordless anger as she stalked up to the door. Her nipples stood out sharply under the thin rayon of her black dress and she was sure to shrug on her shawl before opening the door to greet her date. She glanced back one last time, but the living room was empty.

An hour later, Bulma sat in the sheikest restaurant in town, already regretting her decision to come. Her date, as it turned out was dud. He was a pit bull in the courtroom but a total puppy in the flesh. He fawned over her like she was an exotic flower to be catered too. Nothing was ever good enough for her and while he showed her nothing but the softest consideration, he would excuse himself from the table to berate the wait staff for their imaginary, unpardonable service.

He had already started responding to her spoilt demands with a soft, `yes dear' that splintered her brain and set her teeth on edge.

If that wasn't enough, she was horny. Really horny. She scanned the room surreptitiously, looking for any male that might have a whisper of a backbone and eager to please cock. She had already dismissed her date as useless and belatedly Bulma realized that a year of abstinence followed by over the top flirtation with a virile male had screwed up her libido. She couldn't go home and have sex with the man she wanted and she couldn't find a man here worth having.

With a deep sigh she cut off whatever her date was saying, ignoring her mother's voice that told her it was rude, and excused herself from the table. She sedately walked to the ladies room, still scanning to see if she found any interesting males, even lowering herself to eye the busboys.

By the time she entered the bathroom she was severely disappointed and without glancing around she went to the largest stall, locking herself in. She flipped the toilet seat down so she could sit on it, her elbows braced on her knees, her chin in her palm. She knew she couldn't very well hide out in there all evening, but she didn't particularly feel like going out to listen to her date prattle on. She supposed that she could be the epitome of rudeness and demand that he take her home, but that seemed like a lot more energy that it was worth.

She knew what her real problem was. She had walked out of her house with unfinished business weighing on her. More specifically her aching arousal brought on by the bastard prince.

She leaned back against the tank, the cold porcelain doing nothing to cool the raging fire inside of her. What she would pay right now to have Vegeta in the stall with her. He would throw her up against the wall, pinning her there with his hard muscular body. Would he even bother with foreplay? She tried to imagine him dropping to his knees in front of her, dragging her dress up so he could dart his tongue past her panties to her waiting clit.

She began to flick her hard nipples through her sheer dress, her other hand already creeping up her naked thigh, pushing her dress up around her waist. Suddenly her fantasy rearranged itself when she realized that Vegeta would never get on his knees for anyone, certainly not her. Instead she saw herself kneeling before him as he leaned against the cool wall. He was wearing a dark suit with a rumbled white shirt that was undone at the throat and in his hand he held his thick erection that thrust out from his unzipped pants.

She licked her lips as she leaned forward, ignoring the hard tiled floor that bit into her unprotected knees. She braced both her hands on his hips as she opened her mouth to slide his cock past her teeth all the way to the back of her throat. He held himself still, his long fingers clasped loosely around the base of his cock, his hips urging her to slide her mouth up and down his length. She heard the knock of the back of his head hitting the wall as he hissed in pleasure.

Bulma's eyes cracked open when she realized the crash she heard was not part of her fantasy, but someone entering the bathroom. Her eyes drifted closed again, ignoring the interruption while her fingers teased her already semi aroused flesh closer to the ever pressing orgasm that was just beyond reach.

Vegeta reached down to pull her to her feet, quickly switching places with her so she was pinned up against the wall. He gripped the underside of her bare thigh, pulling her leg up so it wrapped around his hips. His fingers dragged her panties to the side, not even bothering to pull them off, as he thrust his needy flesh into her.

She cried out as he filled her, unaware that she did so outside her fantasy as well. Unsatisfied with the lack of depth from their position, Vegeta grasped her other leg, pulling her up to wrap around his waist. He pinned her shoulders against the wall, grinding her hips into his with his strong grip as he thrust forcefully into her. She wrapped her legs and arms tightly around him, squeezing him with every inch of her body.

The rough cotton of his pants that were still buttoned rubbed against her bare clit and she arched her pelvis to feel more of his length inside of her. Mewling sounds of desire rose inside her throat and Bulma slumped against the wall and the tank her legs spread wide, her hand thrust between her thighs. Her head dropped back as she found her release both in her fantasy and in the real world the entire time imagining that she could hear Vegeta's growled ecstasy in her ear.

Bulma lifted her head, her blurry eyes focusing on the closed door of the stall. Absently she pulled her skirt down over her legs, her hand wiping at the perspiration on her brow. She stood up shakily on three-inch heels, working hard to balance herself on weak legs. She exited the stall almost missing a step when she caught sight of a wide-eyed blonde who was in the process of putting red lipstick on.

Bulma regained her composure, calling on the inner bitch that kept her strong and strode up to the counter. She washed her hands before fluffing her hair, acutely aware of the woman watching her the entire time.

She met the stranger's gaze in the mirror, her haughty sneer firmly in place. "What? Like you haven't done it before," she stated with confidence before picking up her clutch from the counter to walk from the room and back to her abandoned date.

As far as she was concerned that should have been the end of it. She should have been able to sit through the tedious meal and concentrate on the conversation at hand, but her mind kept wandering to the image of Vegeta pleasuring himself on his bed. It was forever burned into her mind. As ten o'clock came and went, Bulma became more and more agitated, the desperate need to return to her room consuming her. She had something much more important to do besides sitting here with this huge waste of time.

She imagined what she could be doing right now. What Vegeta would be doing? What they could be doing together? When the clock struck ten thirty she decided it was time to take matters in her own hands. She yawned deeply, smiling coyly at the man in front of her. He took the hint, rising to help her from her chair and escorted her from the restaurant.

Though he had come to pick her up at her house like a true date, after taking one look at his two seater she had insisted on taking her limo. So they encapsulated his air car and summoned her chauffer.

They climbed into her limo and with every passing second, Bulma could feel the same aching need she thought she had dealt with earlier pulsing in her center. Her date slid closer to her and with narrowed eyes Bulma watched as he put one timid hand on her knee. If he had approached her with any semblance of manly confidence she may have let him slide his hand all the way up her thigh. She certainly was in need of a man's touch. Her hands felt good and her fantasies were fantastic, but she needed to be fucked and soon.

She brushed his hand away and looked out the window, waiting to see if he would push the matter. She almost wanted him too. Although she lusted after Vegeta with a need that rivaled his thirst to conquer Goku, she didn't really want to sleep with him. She was sure that he would take all her power and crush it under foot. She couldn't control him like every other man in her life. Vegeta was an unstoppable force of nature.

They pulled up to his house and they murmured their goodbyes, not even exchanging a kiss. As the limo pulled out of the drive, Bulma had to press her knees together to suppress the excitement that flooded her. Soon she would be home and in her room. She would open the balcony doors and invite the predator outside to watch as she teased herself. She knew the orgasm she experienced in the bathroom would be weak compared to the one she would have while Vegeta watched.

The car rolled to the stop and Bulma exited without waiting for the chauffer. She stalked up the walkway never breaking stride as the butler opened the door for her. She practically raced up the stairs, entering her room with the force of a whirlwind. She slammed the door shut and crossed to the balcony, swinging open the doors to step outside.

A bird call sounded in the distance. Crickets chirped happily from their perches on the grass. A dog from the kennel barked.

Bulma's shoulders slumped as she retreated inside of her room. She kicked off her shoes as she made her way to the bathroom, shedding her dress disinterestedly. She decided to take a shower, washing the smell of her date's expensive cologne from her skin and hair, as well of any evidence of her previous bathroom activity. She didn't linger under the spray, too depressed to do more than wash her body with a loofa.

She wrapped a towel around her torso and exited the room, making her way dejectedly towards her vanity. Half way there she became aware of a noticeable absence of sound. Her eyes shot up and instead of seeing overwhelming darkness she found Vegeta lounging in the balcony doorway, one shoulder braced on the frame.

Lust hit her full force as her heated gaze raked over his frame taking in his bare chest that glistened in the lamp light. He wore only a pair of dark blue button fly jeans that hung low on his hips and nothing else. Not even shoes and oddly she found his bare feet to be sexy. It almost looked like he had roused himself from his slumber as soon as he felt her presence and that thought sent a deep wave of unexpected emotion through her that almost buckled her knees.

The top button of his fly was undone, hinting at a darker shadow underneath. She licked her lips at the sight of the indentations between his muscled stomach and hipbones, the valleys practically begging her to run her tongue across them. His arms were crossed over his chest and his biceps bulged under his bronze skin. Her longing gaze drifted up over his broad shoulders to meet his dark eyes that watched her with an intensity of a jungle predator.

"You're home early. Did you break him so soon?" Vegeta's husky voice slid around her body, caressing her intimately.

Bulma shrugged disinterestedly. "He was already broken."

She moved slowly to the side of the bed nearest to where he stood, her eyes never leaving his. He watched as she clasped the front of her towel with her hands, her face completely serene while a hint of lust burned on her cheeks. She pulled apart the edges of her towel, holding it out away from her, allowing it to be an unblemished canvas to highlight her beauty.

Vegeta's hooded eyes raked down her bare body, letting her see that he did in fact enjoy the sight of her nakedness. She dropped the towel, freeing her hands to slide over her flat stomach, avoiding the sensitive areas of her body, knowing that's what he wanted to see the most.

Her breathing increased and her breasts heaved with the strain, bouncing the pert mounds enticingly. Her pink nipples hardened without her touch, the burning heat of his gaze arousing her more intensely than her hand ever could.

Her breasts swelled and ached, leaving her no choice but to cup them in her palms to alleviate the pain. Her thumbs flicked over the puckered flesh building a fresh desire to have Vegeta's lips on her nipples. She refused to look away as one hand trailed down her midriff to part the folds of her nether lips. Vegeta didn't blink as he watched it all, his own lust becoming blatantly clear beneath his jeans. Bulma silently urged him to take his erection out from his pants and caress it with the same care she was showing herself.

Suddenly Vegeta glided across the room with cat like grace, coming to stand in front of her. Her heart rate spiked and she fought to force air back into her lungs. Unable to stop herself she reached out to trail her fingers down his ribbed stomach, desperately wanting to feel his hard flesh beneath her touch.

His hand lashed out, his fingers wrapping cruelly around her wrist, stopping her in mid air. Her eyes darted back up to his immobile features, only his dark eyes showing a hint of movement.

"You dare to touch your master, slave?" He hissed with deadly venom, his voice low and raspy. Her eyes widened at his words and without warning he shoved her back onto the bed. She bounced once, her breasts jiggling temptingly before she levered herself up on her elbows to glare at the breathtaking man who towered over her. Although he enraged her with his words, she still felt the kiss of lust on her flesh.

"How dare you. I call no man master and I am no ones slave," she spat, her voice just as deadly as his. His cruel lips lifted in a condescending smile as he looked down at her bared beauty laid out before him. Her breasts swelled with every indignant breath and her midriff pressed against her spine with every exhalation. He could smell her thick arousal wafting up from her naked sex, the pink head peeking past its hood.

"If you want to touch something so badly, touch yourself, slave." Bulma inhaled deeply with the intent of telling the prince exactly what she thought of him, but he moved before she had the chance. His hand leisurely found the buttons on his fly, his nimble fingers undoing them one handed. She swallowed hard, her sapphire eyes trailing back up to see his cocky smirk and the lust that hid behind it.

She refused to move and instead watched as the last button was undone and his hand reached in to pull out his amazing length. With one fluid motion he stroked his hard cock, almost daring her to reach out and wrap her own fingers around it. She glanced back up at him and she knew that he wouldn't let her get near him, but perhaps she could entice him. After all a woman feels much finer than a fist.

She lay back on the bed, her hands finding her erogenous zones easily. One hand teased her breast while the other slid between her legs. Almost instantly pleasure flooded her and behind half lidded eyes she watched as Vegeta stroked himself in rhythm to her thrusting hand. She raised her knees, instinctively preparing her body to cradle him. Her toes curled in the coverlet as she arched against her hand.

"Spread your legs." He demanded in a heated whisper. She was more than happy to comply. She braced her heels on the bed and opened her knees wide, allowing him to see every decadent detail of her.

"Wider." He increased the pace his hand sliding over his cock and Bulma spread her feet further apart, opening herself as far as she could go.

He kneeled between her legs, his weight dipping the bed. His engorged shaft hovered above her and she had to dig her heels into the mattress to resist bucking towards him. His fist continued to stroke his thick length and Bulma's own hand worked her heavy flesh.

Her lips parted with her heavy breaths and her body writhed with the craving to feel his heavy weight on her. She needed to feel his hands cupping her breasts, his hot breath on her sensitive neck and his mouth on her crowning nipples. Her body ached for his touch and she could wait no longer.

"Please touch me," she begged with breathless pants as the pleasure whipped around inside of her, threatening to break free.

"No." His harsh denial echoed in the room as he continued to pleasure himself while kneeled over her. A high-pitched whine keeled up from her throat as she tossed her head back and forth in despair. As the sound died down, only the sound of their raspy breaths could be heard.

Vegeta fell forward and he braced one hand on the mattress as he hovered over her, his fist working at a frantic pace that she matched with her own hand. His hot breaths feathered over her collarbone and she arched towards him, aching to pull him fully down on top of her. She could easily move her body to touch his, but she dared not. He was so careful keep their flesh separated.

She could no longer contain the riot of sensation that rose up inside of and she arched off the bed as she came on her hand. She heard Vegeta's rending growl and through her haze of pleasure she felt something hot spurt over her flat stomach and smooth breasts. The smell of sex saturated the air, swirling thickly around them. Her orgasm kept its grip on her for long minutes and she was only dimly aware of the shifting of the bed as Vegeta moved away. When she looked up she saw Vegeta standing over her, tucking his sated flesh back into his pants.

"Why?" She questioned his earlier denial, hurt evident in her voice and sparking eyes.

Vegeta looked dispassionately down at her flushed features, no sign of remorse evident. "Why would I lower myself to touch a disrespectful slave such as yourself?" He countered and before Bulma could respond he sauntered out of the room and disappeared into the darkness.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ, but I wouldn't mind getting my hands on Vegeta's tail.

Master of Desire, Slave to Lust

Chapter Four

Bulma was mad. Furious. Pissed beyond pissed. How dare he say no to her? His sneer as he glared down at her naked body was burned into her brain. His eyes were cold and unforgiving, only disgust evident for her in the curl of his lip. He thought she was nothing more than dirt at his feet. Her! Bulma Briefs! He thought she wasn't good enough for him. The homeless, useless, prince of a dead race. The bastard!

Bulma slammed the door for to her office for the fifth time that day, glaring at her imbecile employees, who dove for their desks or nearby alcoves to avoid her wrath. She stalked down the hall, her teeth grinding together so hard she was sure she was going to chip a molar.

She hadn't been able to get a thing done that day. Every time she started on a project, Vegeta's sneer would drift into her mind and she would explode into a fit of fury, yelling and screaming at whomever was near. She couldn't stand the thought that he had rejected her. That he had been so close to her perfect, delectable body, jerking off centimeters from her and he still hadn't touched her. He treated her as live porn. Something to watch when he was bored.

She burst into the bathroom, snarling at the women who lined the counter before disappearing into one of the stalls. She heard the women quickly file out and she was left in silence to contemplate her thoughts.

What was wrong with him? How could he just walk away like that? Was he a machine? Did he truly think she was nothing more than some sort of slave, put there to serve him in any manner that he deemed fit? Worse, apparently he didn't seem to deem her fit enough to touch.

What was wrong with her? Why didn't he want her? Wasn't she beautiful? Everyone said so. They had been saying it since her birth. Men lusted after, women wanted to be her. She was in the media so often that her own features were almost a stranger to her. She would see her glitzy smile on the evening news and sometimes she would forget that was her. Was that her problem? Was she really just forgettable? Was it only her money that everyone saw and not her?

She heard the bang of the bathroom door opening and the shrill tone of women's gossiping voices filtered in.

"Damn, Briefs is sure being a bitch today. What the hell is her problem?" A familiar voice sounded, and Bulma thought she recognized it as being Sandra from accounting.

"I heard that she had a date with Donavan from legal last night." Another voice chimed in.

"Oh yeah? How did that go?"

The second woman snickered before answering. "I guess she was a real ice queen. She wouldn't even let him touch her. He's telling everyone in the office that he's seen more action from a tree stump."

Laughter echoed in the room, and Bulma's face turned red with indignation.

"That's not very nice guys. Maybe she just didn't like him." A third, softer voice drifted into the conversation, and try as she might Bulma couldn't place it.

She heard a snort before Sandra started talking again. "That woman doesn't like anyone. All she ever thinks about is business. If she ever did get into bed with a man she would probably treat him like a company merger. She would be the one calling the shots while he just lay there and agreed."

"Yah, remember that poor baseball player she dated for like forever. She had him so whipped that he stuttered whenever he talked to a pretty girl." Bulma listened closely and she was finally able to place the second voice as Linda down in filing. Her eyes narrowed as she spoke. Yamcha stuttered around pretty girls because he never quite got over his fear of them. It was pathetic really. She thought it was cute when they were younger, but it got old real quick. What was the point of having a strong fighter for a boyfriend if he was a pussy?

"Maybe he's just shy." The soft voice echoed, but the other two women ignored her.

"Did you see that article in Time? 'Ms Briefs, the girl on top.' Yah, she's on top all right. I bet she won't have sex unless she's the one doing the fucking."

"You're right. Donovan probably intimidated her. He's the kind of guy that would want to be in charge."

"Briefs would more than likely have an epileptic seizure if some tried to tell her what to do. She's a control freak. I bet she doesn't even like sex."

Sandra pitched her voice high to imitate Bulma. "No, I couldn't possibly have an orgasm. I might lose control of myself for a minute."

Laughter echoed again, and Bulma could take no more. She stood up, unlocking the door to her stall. She calmly stepped out, ignoring the women who looked like a bird had flown out of nowhere and crapped on them. Bulma glanced over at the quiet one, memorizing her face before walking up to the sink. She turned on the water to wash her hands, the only sound in the unnaturally silent room.

She dried her hands and walked to the door, pausing before leaving. "Sandra and Linda at the end of your shift today you can pick up your paychecks from HR."

"Bitch," Sandra hissed at her from behind, and Bulma felt a cold smile spread over her red lips. She turned back, looking at the viperous women for the first time.

"Whatever it takes to stay on top," she replied, her eyes glittering with malice. She turned to leave, but a softly spoken voice stopped her.

"Sometimes being on the bottom is more pleasurable than being on top." Bulma shoulders stiffened, but she regained her stride as she exited the bathroom.

She knew the girl was talking about more than just sex. Being on top was hard. It was stressful and time consuming. She didn't have the ability to go out with the girls at the end of the day to blow off steam at some local bar. She was Bulma Briefs. Her every move was watched and analyzed by the ever present media. A few mishaps when she was a teenager, taught her that lesson. There was nothing more humiliating than having your personal flaws smeared across the morning paper. She would never be a normal girl. She was the richest and most powerful woman in the world. She was a prisoner of her own success, and whoever she chose to be by her side would also be a captive.

Bulma strode to her office, but as she neared she took a sharp right towards the building lobby. She knew she wouldn't get any work done today, and she was too disturbed to be around her employees. As she walked down the hall towards the elevator, she saw the panicked glances that everyone threw her before stepping out of her way. On a normal day she wouldn't notice it or worse it would please her, but today it only made her sad. Was this how everyone saw her? A monster to be avoided. An ice queen who couldn't let go of her control long enough to get properly fucked.

Bulma left the building, knowing exactly where she wanted to go. The one place where she hadn't succeed. To the one person who she had to fight for control with. She knew what she wanted, and dammit, she was going to get it. After all she was Bulma Briefs. She was always on top. On top of business, in the top of her class, the top beauty and always on top of her man.

Vegeta was in the shower when he felt her coming from across the compound. He was thinking about what they had done together the night before. His hand curled loosely around his semi aroused cock as he remembered how lush her body had looked spread out across her luxurious silk draped bed. It had taken most of his will power not to thrust into her wet heat right then and there. To finally sink his throbbing flesh into hers. She had practically begged for it, but not quite. She wasn't ready just yet.

He wouldn't stop until he had her total submission, her acceptance of his will. He knew that taming her would be time consuming, but it was a past time that he was more than willing to indulge in.

Years of servitude had taught him what it was like to feel inferior to those more powerful around him. Being weaker than Kakarot was nothing new, it was just far more frustrating than he imagined. If the bastard hadn't been a Saiyan, Vegeta wouldn't have cared less if he was more powerful than he, but he did. A third class outstripping his prince. It could not be condoned.

Since he was presently weaker than the freak, he had to abide by certain rules. First and foremost being that he couldn't terrorize any of the pathetic human populace. It seemed simple enough, but it left Vegeta with no outlet for his rampaging emotions, except for his endless training.

He raised his head, his black eyes narrowing. Bulma's aura was snapping like lightning in a summer storm, and he knew that she was coming for a confrontation. He smiled to himself, knowing that he had found a second outlet for his strained psyche in the form of one breathtakingly, beautiful female. All of his life he had taken out his anger at being weaker, at being inferior, on those who couldn't protect themselves, but now he had an opportunity-a chance to finally reach out and claim something for himself.

A small piece of heaven could be his if he dared to grab it. Once he had her in his grip, he would bind her to him, so tightly that no one would be able to take her away from him. He may not choose to keep her, but she would be his forever.

He stepped out of the shower, whipping his head to shake the water from his mane. He didn't bother with a towel as he stalked out into his room, water still dripping down his chest.

He stopped in front of his bed, glaring down at the single wide, military cot. This alone underscored the vast difference between them. She wallowed in luxury, born to wealth and prestige, while he the Prince of his race, was most comfortable in the sparsest conditions possible. Besides his armor, he had never owned a material object in his life. Everything had to be provided to him by his lizard master that he slaved under.

He could feel her presence above him now, and he took his place, naked on the bed, impatiently waiting for her while he stroked his fully hardened flesh. The hatch clanged, and he watched as her dainty foot appeared, clad in blue heels. She made her way carefully down the ladder, reason warning her through her madness that if she rushed, she could very well fall.

Her long legs emerged and Vegeta squeezed his shaft when he realized that her short skirt had ridden even further up her thighs. She stepped down, and Vegeta saw that her hair was pinned up at the base of her neck. That always drove him wild. He would sit outside her room at night, impatiently waiting for her to take down her hair, one strand at a time to run her brush through her impossibly blue tresses. His fingers itched to trail her hair through them. He just wanted to know if it was soft as it looked.

She turned to face him, and he could see that she was flushed with anger, along with something else he couldn't quite place. She stilled for moment when she realized that he was inclined on his bed, his back braced against the cold steel wall, stroking his thick hard shaft while he watched her. The sight aroused her as well as infuriated her.

She stalked up to the bed, standing directly in front of him. She cocked her hands on her hips, desperately trying to ignore the loud, persistent voice that was clamoring at her to climb up on the bed, and knock his hand away. Why use a hand when he had a perfectly willing mouth available?

"How dare you!" she hissed instead, looking him square in the eye. He winged a fine, black eyebrow at her mockingly, his hand never ceasing.

When he didn't reply, Bulma nearly choked on her tongue in rage. "Do you know who I am? I'm Bulma Briefs, heiress to the richest corporation in the world. I have more money than you will ever see in ten life times. How dare you say no to me!" she spat in a rage.

He smiled languidly at her, his ivory fangs flashing under the pale yellow light that emanated from a single bulb in the ceiling. "To me you are nothing, but a disrespectful slave."

Bulma stomped her foot in fury. "I am no one's slave!" She thrust her manicured finger at him forcefully. "It's you who are the slave, dammit. When I say that I want to fuck then we had better fuck!"

Vegeta's hard black eyes narrowed, and Bulma's face flushed scarlet at her words. She hadn't meant to say that. Really she hadn't. Vegeta's amusement drifted away, and his face set itself in stone. He released his erection, folding his arms behind his head. His biceps bulged, and she could see droplets of water gleaming off of them. With his arms lifted she had a perfect view of his sculpted chest and ribbed abs. His cock thrust up from the apex of his thighs, hard and uncompromising, just like the rest of his body.

"If you want to fuck so badly then fuck me," he taunted, his voice merciless. Bulma dragged her eyes away from his tempting flesh, locking with his dark gaze. She could see the challenge in the back of his eyes. He didn't think she was brave enough to take what she wanted. He thought she was weak. Her eyes narrowed, her lips twisting into a hard line.

"Fine, I will," she spat with conviction as she shrugged out of her jacket, throwing it onto the floor. She undid her white silk blouse, ignoring the delicate ting of pearl buttons hitting the metal floor from her rough handling. She didn't care, the five hundred dollar suit could easily be replaced.

She watched Vegeta's face for any flicker of movement as she undressed in front of him. She unzipped her skirt, standing before him clad only in her lacy under things. His body was unmoving, cold and hard, like a bronze statue.

She dropped the rest of her clothes on the floor before him, suddenly ashamed to be naked in front of the uncaring man. Her blush never fully left her face, but before she could run away she stepped forward. She crawled onto the bed, her hand reaching out to touch his rigid stomach. He felt like she imagined, unyielding like the bronze statue she compared him to him, but burning hot. His warmth radiated out from him, melting her under its heat.

Her hand drifted down towards his throbbing cock, her mouth watering with the realization that she was finally going to taste him. She lowered her head, her hair still coiled at the base of her neck. He snatched her wrist away before she could reach him, his fingers banding around her like steel. He pulled her in until she was precariously balanced on her knees, nose to nose, but not quite touching.

"Well get on with it woman and fuck me," he snarled dragging her over his body so she had to straddle him to keep from falling.

Her lower lip extended into a slight pout as she was denied her treat. Vegeta had to clamp his own jaw together to keep from leaning forward to bite the luscious lip. He returned his hand behind his head, leaning back against the wall to watch Bulma with hooded eyes.

Most of her weight was still on her knees, but Vegeta could feel the brush of her silky thighs against him. Her skin was cool and as smooth as porcelain. Her china alabaster flesh contrasted sharply with his rich caramel color, her delicate roundness softening the hard edges of his body.

She looked down for a minute, almost confused at what she should do. Vegeta ached to kiss the soft curve of her exposed nape and he almost flinched when he felt her cool fingers brush against him. She rose up, grasping him with one hand to position him at her entrance. She lowered herself, and he had to lace his fingers together when he felt his tip push into her heat.

Bulma was excited and scared. She was finally touching the aloof prince. She was going to fuck him, and that thought exhilarated her, but this wasn't quite what she had in mind. He still hadn't touched her, and he was keeping her contact with him to a minimum. His tip slid awkwardly into her. She stilled, looking up at him. He was watching her with his unreadable eyes, his rock solid body completely immobile except for the slight flexing of his forearms.

She reached up, bracing both her palms on his wide chest, nearly sighing at the feel of his velvety skin encasing solid steel. She leaned forward, her eyes drifting closed as she pursed her lips for a kiss. A heartbeat before her lips touched his, she felt his strong fingers wrap around her wrists, pushing her away from his body. She opened her eyes to see that he had turned his face aside, leaving her to stare at his lean jaw.

He glared at her from the corner of his eye, his thick lashes nearly concealing the look from her.

"This is just a fuck, nothing more." He yanked her arms down, buckling her knees a little. She hissed at the burning sting of pain as he slid further in, tears welling up in her eyes.

"You are too big," she whispered, her head dropping to stare at his stomach, unable to withstand the heat of his glare.

"You're too tight," his hissed back. Good Gods, was she tight. He felt like he was being squeezed by a satin gloved fist. He wanted to thrust all the way into her, to bury himself to the hilt but he restrained himself. He was going to teach this female a lesson since no other male on this planet seemed capable of doing it.

Her body shuttered, and he tightened his grip on her wrists, nearly bruising her. He wanted to reach out and ease her pain, to relax her body so she melted around him. He knew by watching her each night where her hot spots were, and his mouth would find them easily. He wanted to hear her moan, but he was determined to follow his decided course.

"If you want to touch something so badly slave, I suggest you touch yourself." He thrust her hands back at her, and laced his fingers back behind his head again. Her body stiffened further at his rejection, increasing her pain as her muscles tightened.

"I am not a slave," she growled with a great deal less heat than before. The argument was getting old. He was never going to stop calling her that no matter how much she protested.

Vegeta's eyes glittered, his full kissable lips stretching into a feral grin. "You are my slave," he vowed with conviction.

"Never," she hissed back, gaining only a smirk for her efforts. She slid a little further down his shaft and her brow furrowed. He was so big, so incredibly thick that she didn't think she would be able to fit all of him. He was already stretching her to the limit, with barely a quarter of him thrusting inside of her.

Denied the satisfaction of touching him, she turned her hands on her own body. Her palms cupped her breasts, teasing the nipples into tight crowns. She leaned back, and Vegeta automatically brought up his knees to hold her in the cradle of his body. She rested against him, the heat in the center of her body building under her touch.

Bulma muscles loosened as she concentrated on her pleasure, instead of how uncomfortable the situation was. Her passage slicked, and Vegeta slid a little further into her, this time with a great deal less pain. Her pale hand slid down her body, her delicate fingers finding her already swelling clit.

Vegeta watched her touch herself. She lifted her breasts, her reddened nipples thrusting out between her fingers as her head lolled back on her neck. A pin fell from her hair, and one long blue lank uncurled from her coif. It fell across her shoulder, obscuring one nipple as it trailed down her stomach. The ivory paleness of her skin enhanced the blue of her hair, and Vegeta inhaled deeply trying to scent her expensive shampoo.

Bulma slid down his shaft, inch by agonizing inch as her body accepted his intrusion. Her fingers teased her clit and Vegeta closed his eyes, reveling in the sensation of her wet, hot body wrapped around him. Finally, her pelvis met his as she took all of him inside of her. Bulma sighed, her muscles tightening. He filled her to the brink, stretching her like no other, touching her very womb. Vegeta opened his eyes as she lifted her head to stare at him. He schooled his features into bland acceptance, enjoying the rage he invoked inside of the small woman.

She braced both her hands on his stomach, and he allowed her cool touch as she lifted herself from him only to slide down once again. He locked his teeth together, never breaking her challenging gaze. He kept his hands fisted behind his head, afraid that if he moved he would pin her down and give her exactly what she wanted.

Bulma's body relaxed, finding a torturous rhythm. He could feel every flutter of her clenching muscles as he slipped in and out of her with easy smoothness. She continued her pace for long moments, but his body didn't even tense with budding pleasure. Bulma could feel sweat trail from her hairline and down her back. Her thighs, toned from hours of aerobics were starting to tremble from fatigue. She dug her sharp fingernails into his midriff, frustrated that she was so close to getting what she wanted, but so far.

She could come, she could feel it, seething and burning, at the base of her stomach. Tremors of pleasure raced out from her core, infusing every cell of her body, but still she could not find the release she wanted, that she needed. She leaned forward, intending to rub her entire body against the unyielding man in front of her.

His hands whipped out from behind his head, grasping her upper arms, holding her a hairsbreadth away from his heat. Her pleading sapphire eyes met his ruthless black ones and he almost relented.

"Please," she whispered against his mouth. Her nipples tingled they were so close to his chest and all she had to do was lick her lips to feel his.

"Please what, slave?" he whispered. His clean, warm breath caressed her when nothing else would.

She ignored his slur, her entire body centered on one want, one need. "Please touch me."

"No." His harsh denial reached out and slapped her. Her bright eyes sparkled with tears, the sting of his rejection so great, that she didn't feel his fingers flex against her small biceps.

"Why?" she asked with a ragged breath. Her body rippled around his, and Vegeta called on his bone deep control of his body to remain impassive.

"Not until you ask properly." His black eyes bore into hers, and Bulma felt a chill go though her.

"Properly?" she asked, her head cocking to the side slightly. The end of her one loose tendril, trailed across his stomach, and his muscles contracted. Bulma licked her lips, deciding that she would say anything that he asked of her as long as he touched her, and she got to touch him.

"Say, please touch me, Master." His eyes met hers with deadly intensity, and Bulma couldn't stop her mouth from sagging open.

"No," she gasped with wide-eyed awe. His fingers tightened on her, and distantly, she was aware that she was going to have bruises in the morning. He thrust her away, his dark eyes seething.

"Finish up, slave. I'm nearly done with you," he snarled menacingly, and Bulma's body stiffened. She stilled over him, his thick flesh thrust deeply inside of her. Connected at the groin, their bodies were one for an instant.

She stared hard at him, thoughts knocking around inside of her brain so quickly that she could barely make sense of them. Was she willing to do that? Was she willing to give up all her power, and utter a single word of submission? He mind drifted back to the women in the bathroom, and the one statement that stuck with her.

_I bet she won't have sex unless she's the one doing the fucking_.

Bulma looked down at their joined bodies. Bulma Briefs, always on top, always in control, always the one doing the fucking. Her fingers curled into fists on her thighs as single tear streamed down her cheek. She felt Vegeta ripple beneath her, but she ignored it as she looked up into his impassive face.

She opened her mouth, gaped like a fish out of water, trying desperately to form the dreaded words on her tongue. Vegeta watched her, his eyes narrowing with intense interest. She was so beautiful, pale and perfect, perched on him like a queen. Her crystal tear cut a path of soulful anguish down her cheek, glittering under the harsh light. Her red lips parted as she tried to speak, her breasts heaving with her small panting breaths.

Sound started to form in the back of her throat, and Vegeta dragged his eyes back up to her face. Her lips closed then parted again, and Vegeta felt the air in the room dry up as he waited for her to speak with anticipation.

"Please," she started her eyes wide.

"Please touch me," she paused, and he could see the struggle inside of her, he could feel it in her body as it vibrated with emotion.

"Master."

The word hung in the air between them for a split second before Vegeta reacted. His black eyes lightened, and he moved so quickly, that Bulma gasped in fear.

His fingers found their way into her hair, pulling the pins from her coif painfully before he tightened his fist in the back of her skull. His other hand gripped her hip, holding her still as he violently flipped her beneath him, his entire body dominating her in one simple gesture.

Her head lolled over the edge of the bed, her long hair trailing to the ground in a waterfall of blue. She sucked in air desperately, her mind overwhelmed by the sensation of Vegeta touching her everywhere. His thick cock was thrust deeply inside of her, their flesh pressed together so tightly at the apex of their thighs, that it seemed impossible to be parted. His hands roved over her body endlessly, never idling too long in one place before moving on.

His lips swathed fire over her neck as he nipped and sucked her flesh until it was red. He lifted her breast with one hand so he could suckle her aching nipple, his hips thrusting tightly against hers. He drove into her with such force that she thought for sure she was going to split apart, her body shaking with each thrust. His mouth devoured her breast before moving on the next one, never slowing, never stopping. His other hand found its way between their bodies as he teased her clit, roughly caressing her with his fingers.

She was so overwhelmed that she could do no more than hold on to the animal she had unleashed with her simple words. And he was an animal, there was no doubt about that. Where he had been so completely unmoved before, now he was a firestorm of lust.

Her nails raked over his back, raising welts that he didn't feel. Her legs wrapped around his hips, trying desperately to keep his frantic pace as he fucked her with a single minded intensity that was both erotic and frightening at the same time.

His hand pulled her hip up against his as he pounded into her. His mouth consumed her, and under her hands, she could feel his hard muscles flex with every thrust. She trailed her hands up his back to dig into his hair, pulling at his mane with more force than she would have ever dared with a human.

"Kiss me," she panted, the air knocked out of her with every motion of his body. Her eyes rolled back as the blood rushed to her head from hanging over the bed. The yellow light danced behind her lids as her lust grew into unimaginable proportions inside of her.

Vegeta could not be moved by force or word. He ignored her as he continued to fuck her without remorse, without quarter.

"Master." The word fell from her lips without thought. Her master. Her master of desire. She was merely a slave to his touch. "Kiss me."

His mouth left her breast, his hands sliding up her back and under her shoulders until his fingers curled into her hair to cup her skull, the weight of her body cradled his arms. His black eyes met her sapphire ones briefly, his body continuing to ram her unmercifully. She saw a flicker of something dark and foreboding in the back of his eyes before he dropped his head to brush his lips against hers. Instead of instilling fear in her, the mysterious look thrilled her beyond words. She saw want and possession in his eyes, and for the first time in her life she felt truly desired for herself, not for what she could do for others.

His tongue swept past her teeth, plundering her depths as if he was exploring her very soul. His fingers tightened in her hair as she fought to join the kiss, her own tongue sliding sinuously against his. They twined together, their lips moving across each others. He held her head still, dominating her body, mind and soul.

The coils of pleasure that had taunted her so horridly before, snapped and hissed with every invasion of her body. He was so deep inside of her that she could not imagine being separated from him. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her hips meeting his vigorously. The kiss continued and stars danced behind her lids from lack of oxygen.

Bulma's entire body clenched and she tightened her grip on his hard cock. A dam broke inside of her, sending her over the edge as she screamed into Vegeta's mouth. Wave after wave of ecstasy rolled over her, drowning her in sensation as she fought to breathe. She dug her nails into Vegeta's back as far they could go, before drawing them down in bloody trails.

Vegeta's mouth parted from hers as he threw back his head in an animalistic roar of victory and pleasure. Her orgasm rocked her body with centripetal force that threatened to tear her apart. She could feel the hot spurt of Vegeta's seed as he released inside of her, his entire body rock hard over hers.

They shuddered together for long minutes, both coming down from their natural high. Bulma gasped for air and Vegeta lowered his head into crook of her neck. She wiggled a little, his weight becoming unbearable for her small frame.

"Vegeta," she whispered as she pressed her hand against his shoulder. Without a sound he lifted his weight from her, so she could sit up.

She dropped her legs over the side of the bed, her eyes trailing over her abandoned clothes that were littered over the ground. She felt the same mortifying heat crept up her body that appeared whenever she did something shameful. She had to get out of there. She had to leave before he said something to her that embarrassed or hurt her even more.

She braced her feet under her, pushing herself off the bed. She was half way up when she felt a shift of air behind her as Vegeta's fist wrapped itself in her hair to yank her back painfully. She yelped as she fell blindly onto the bed only to find her back flush against Vegeta's muscular torso.

His hot breath tickled her ear as he leaned forward to whisper to her. "I'm not done with you yet, slave." His arm tightened around her stomach as he lifted her up to fit her buttocks against his hips. She felt the hard thrust of his newly aroused erection against the soft curve of her hip, heating her blood.

She licked her lips, her fingers curling possessively around his thick arm. She felt all of her indecision melt away under the heat of his blatant desire. Later she would worry, right now she would feel.

She leaned back, her head finding the natural hollow of his shoulder. "Of course not, Master," she whispered back, her heart rate increasing as he touched her everywhere.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: DBZ is not mine. It pretty much just goes downhill after that statement, doesn't it?

Chapter Five

Vegeta prowled the darkened interior of Bulma's luxurious room. Besides the other night he had never given into the temptation to enter her domain, preferring to deal with her in his own territory, but tonight was different.

He inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with her scent that was days old. She had been missing from the compound for almost a week now, her room empty and cold. She had run from him, scampering away like a thief in the night, leaving him utterly and totally alone.

_Abandoned_.

His fangs flashed in the moonlight and a menacing growl rumbled in the night. In the distance, a night singing bird stilled on it's branch, its feathers ruffling at the immanent danger. He stalked up to her dresser, pulling open her drawers. He swiped up a handful of silky under things, bringing them to his nose to inhale deeply. His eyes glittered with lust and the anger inside of him swelled. He filled his lungs with her scent, memorizing it for the hunt.

He would find her and he would punish her.

A golden comet flashed, and the bird hunkered down in fear as the predator streaked away in the star-studded sky.

To say that Bulma was hiding wouldn't be a fair statement. She was just taking a short hiatus. Generals in battle refer to it as a tactical retreat. A way to win the war after losing a battle.

Bulma had evacuated her room at Capsule Corp and installed herself in the V.I.P penthouse near the main offices in West City. The suite of rooms was used for visiting dignitaries or as perk for upper management. She had been hiding out here for almost a week, making herself right at home with the deluxe room service and fawning hotel staff. Most importantly, Vegeta didn't know where she was at.

She crossed the room, tossing her wet towel over a chair as she made her way to the bank of windows overlooking the city. She looked out into the darkness, seeing the twinkling of city lights beyond the pale reflection of her naked body in the sheet of glass. She wasn't worried about any peeping toms at forty-five stories in the air so she made no effort to cover herself.

She turned from side to side, examining her body for any noticeable changes that age may bring before sighing heavily and making a face at herself in the window. Ever since she had left home she hadn't been able to concentrate at work. She was utterly useless in the office, and with every passing day there was a fiery ache in her loins that she could not douse. She had tried masturbating, teasing herself with memories of Vegeta's hard body, but she was always left frustrated and wanting more. It just wasn't the same without Vegeta there to watch her. She felt alone, perverted and dirty.

While in meetings she daydreamed of their hot afternoon spent together in his bleakly bare room under the training capsule. Her blood would heat and she would press her knees together as she recalled how he had fucked her long and hard until she had begged for him to stop. He had refused to yield until she had uttered the magic word.

Master.

With that thought her world would come crashing down, and her memories would be shattered by shame. Her face would flame red, and many times she had to excuse herself as she retreated back into her plush executive office to regain her composure. How could this have happened? How could someone like her, an authoritative business woman, a renowned beauty, and a self confident female be reduced to playing slave girl for an egotistical, chauvinistic, bastard prince? And worse, she liked it. In fact, she craved it.

So she hid away in shame, certain that someone else beside Vegeta would find out about her perversion. That at any moment a news broadcast would be aired showing her with a dog collar around her neck as she begged on her hands and knees. Even if no one else was aware of her fetish, Vegeta still knew, and that was as nearly as unacceptable. No matter how good he made her feel she wasn't willing to play his game of domination and submission. She was Bulma Briefs, not some bitch in heat.

She stared hard out into the night, her eyes straining to see anything other than the yellow and white lights. She lifted her hand, her fingertips meeting her reflection, her twin trapped, cold and alone in the night. She glanced away, her mind wandering to the next day, and the work that waited for her at her office.

She felt more than heard a presence behind her, a rush of cool air that alerted her to an attack. She tried to dart away, but she was too slow, and a rough hand encircled her fragile neck, pulling her back forcibly against a rock hard chest. She screamed, but the hand cut into her throat, choking her, bring tears to her eyes. Another hand wound its way around her ribs, gripping her breast possessively, but not painfully.

"You have been a very bad slave," Vegeta whispered in her ear, and she automatically sagged against him in relief, only to stiffen instantly in dread.

Once he knew that she wasn't going to scream he loosened his grip around her throat and she swallowed harshly.

"How did you get in here?" she demanded in a hoarse growl. He tisked against her cheek, tweaking her nipple.

"That's not important, is it?" he questioned, and Bulma realized that how he had gotten into her room was inconsequential to the fact that he was there, touching her without having to be asked.

"How did you find me?" Bulma was amazed that he had appeared. She had thought for certain that he would never find her or frankly, that he would even bother to look.

He leaned close, exhaling his hot breath on the back of her neck, heightening her fight or flight instincts. She was nothing but prey, caught under the paw of her natural enemy.

"I will always find you. I will track you wherever you go. Your scent is imprinted on my mind for eternity, and I always retrieve what's mine." His breath ruffled the fine hairs on her nape, reminding her just how close he was to her, and how vulnerable that made her.

He ran his hand down the flat plane of her stomach, and Bulma realized belatedly that she was naked and fresh from the shower, while Vegeta was fully clothed. She could feel the warm caress of his garments against her cool skin, her entire body tingling at the knowledge. Her sensitive skin was able to identify the sensation of jeans and a wool sweater pressing against her.

"You don't own me," she countered, conviction sadly lacking in her voice.

His tongue traced her spine, lapping at a droplet of water that escaped from her damp hair. She shivered at the wet heat, suppressing the moan that gathered at the back of her throat.

"Your body says different, slave." He inhaled deeply, scenting her thoroughly, deciphering all of her secrets.

At the moment, she couldn't argue with his astute statement. Her body was indeed having a traitorous response to his very presence. It was a mutiny of mind and body, and presently her mind was losing.

"What do you want, Vegeta?" Bulma asked bravely, her mind scattered by the hand that was nearing her swelling cleft.

"Hmm," he hummed against her neck as he nuzzled her hair aside. "Lets see. What could I possibly want?" Her skin vibrated, spreading goosebumps on her arms and down her spine.

Bulma stiffened, her fists clenching at her sides. She knew better than to try to struggle, after all she was no match for the Saiyan, but it didn't mean she would take his abuse lying down. No matter how wonderful it was.

"Sex," she spat with derision. "You want sex, and you want me to call you master."

He smiled against her shoulder, and Bulma almost moaned as his tongue continued to languidly trace her skin.

"Well I'm not going to do it," she huffed, proud of her resolve.

"What? You aren't going to have sex with me or you aren't going to call me master?" Vegeta asked reasonably. So reasonably that Bulma paused for a minute. She hadn't thought this far into the game. She was dead certain that she wasn't going to call him master again, but was she ready to deny herself sex with him? He really was the best she ever had. His touch was more addicting than any narcotic could ever be.

His lazy fingers finally found their way between her thighs, slipping against her already wet and swollen cleft. Even as her mouth was saying no, her body was preparing to fuck him senseless.

"I won't call you master," she stated carefully, unable to swear him off just yet.

"We'll see, but first there's the matter of you running off. You need to be punished for that." Unexpectedly his fangs sank into the ridge of her shoulder, and she yelped in pain, jumping away from him. He held her flush against him, her small frame melding perfectly into his.

"Punished!" She yelped. "You can't punish me, you beast. I haven't done anything wrong."

"Slaves are not allowed to run away from their masters." Vegeta declared hotly, spinning her around so that her torso was pressed up against the icy sheet of glass. The white and gold lights of the city shimmered as the pane wavered. Bulma felt a moment of panic before rage overtook her.

He held her prone with one strong hand at the back of her neck, his fingers banding tightly around her. Rage well up inside of her, and she twisted her head to the side so that her cheek was resting against the glass.

"I'm not your slave, and you sure as hell aren't my master, you sadistic prick."

He didn't respond, instead, he closed the distance between them, pinning her thoroughly. He nestled himself against her, and Bulma unconsciously arched away from the cold glass towards his overwhelming heat.

He nudged his knee between her slender thighs, lifting her heels off the ground as he lodged himself against her throbbing core. Her nipples were rock hard from the cold press of the glass, and when his warm hands reached around to cup her breasts her muscles relaxed in relief. He judged their weight before brushing the pads of his fingers over her taut nipples that were aching for his touch.

Bulma was unable to keep her contented sigh from escaping her. She had fought for so long for him to touch her and when he had, it had come at an unreasonable price. So she had run from him, hiding without his touch for days, longing for him endlessly. Now he was there, touching her without hesitation, soothing her cravings.

He nuzzled her nape, his hot tongue sliding across her pulse as she lifted her chin higher to expose more of her pale neck. He pressed her against the thin window and just for a moment she gave thought to the fact that her entire body was exposed to the night. Her lush flesh was spread for display as he leaned into her and she didn't care one whit. Only the night flying birds would see, and if there was some pervert watching from two buildings away with binoculars then she wished him a good show.

His clever hand found its way between her legs to tease her silky flesh. She lifted her hands, pressing them flat against the glass by her head. Her lips parted and the pane fogged with her heavy pants. His fingers slid along her wet cleft, enticing her clit to swell with desire. Without prompting she spread her legs wider, enjoying the gratifying sensation of Vegeta's fully dressed body that was emitting so much heat. She loved the erotic feel of the course fabric of jean and wool on her bare skin, scraping against her almost painfully.

One hand still cupped her ripe breast, and his fingers tweaked her nipple playfully as his tongue drew wet circles on her shoulder. His mouth trailed up to her ear, his hot breath tickling her.

"Do you like that?" he asked in a raspy whisper. "Do you like it when I touch you, slave?"

His fingers plunged inside of her, robbing her ability to speak, and she could only whimper in response as she bucked against him. Her hands flexed against the glass, leaving palm prints from the cold sweat coating her body. The yellow headlights from the traffic below reflected in her eyes, and she absently wondered if the drivers and passengers of the vehicles ever passed the night being fucked raw by an animal.

He bit her shoulder and her eyes rolled back at the sharp pang of ecstasy that engulfed her. All of her deep-seated cravings came to bear at the caress of his hands. At that moment she didn't think she could live without his touch.

His fingers withdrew from her heat, and she cried out in protest. He chuckled darkly from behind her, and she shivered in response. She heard the rustle of clothing, and her pulse jumped when she realized that he was pulling his thick cock from his pants. Instinctively, she tilted her bottom back, inviting him to sink into her. She hissed as his cock slid inside, her slick wetness making his intrusion seamless, unlike the first time.

He released her breast, bracing both his hands on either side of hers. He pushed into her, sheathing himself to the hilt, rocking forward. She struggled to keep her footing, to remain firm so he could plunge into her. He withdrew to spear her again and her nipples brushed against the glass before his heavy weight forced her flat. Her head dropped back, and he leapt on the invitation, his lips sliding against her pulse while she was cradled in his shoulder. She nudged her bottom closer to him, urging him to thrust faster, to fuck her harder.

He obliged her with long, hard thrusts, and the window shuttered from the force. Bulma's hands clenched into fists, and she closed her eyes as inescapable visions of the glass shattering entered her mind. She wondered what it would be like to fall through the air, racing the shards of glass to the ground as Vegeta thrust inside of her. She knew that Vegeta would never let them die, but the image was thrilling enough to increase her already racing pulse.

"Vegeta," she whispered, but he ignored her. Instead he removed his hands from the glass, reaching around to grasp her thighs. He lifted her up to her toes, spreading her flesh with strong fingers.

He was everything that she wanted in a man. Powerful, dominate and unafraid. He fucked her with raw intensity that ignited every cell in her body. For the first time in her life she was going to cum just by being fucked, and not by having her clit teased at the same time. With every thrust of his strong body, a keening moan rose up in her throat heralding her violent release that was teetering at the edge of reason.

Suddenly, Vegeta pulled out of her, his hard length abandoning her, leaving her achingly empty. She cried out, but he ignored her as he pulled her by the hair towards the huge bed, tossing her face first onto the mattress. Her icy torso was surrounded by the warmth and softness of her luxurious bedding. She felt a dip as he knelt between her legs, his masculine heat covering her once again.

Her entire body was strumming with need, and she writhed under him. "Please Master, fuck me." The words fell from her mouth without her consent or her knowledge. She was caught in the throes of intense wanting that could only be satisfied by Vegeta.

His swarthy laugh brought her vaguely to the surface of reality, dimming her pleasure subtly. She felt the rush of his hot breath on her spine and her skin contracted on her bones, screaming to be touched. She knew he was amused because she had broken her vow, but she didn't care. All she wanted was for him to finish what he started.

"How do you feel?" he asked maliciously. She felt the brush of his fist against her buttocks, and she knew he was stroking himself as he spoke.

"W-what?" she stuttered in disbelief, but she couldn't stop her body from arching back towards his.

"Do you feel alone?" He braced himself above her as the pace of his stroking continued.

"Abandoned?"

He spread her thighs with his weight as he leaned down to thrust himself between the cleft of her cheeks, teasing her with what she so desperately needed. She lifted herself in invitation while she tried brokenly to follow his conversation.

"What are you talking about, Vegeta?" The burning need between her legs was driving her mad, and the brush of Vegeta's flesh against hers was only enflamed her more. She ground herself against the bed, trying to alleviate some of her pain.

"Do you feel..."

His voice dropped down into a silky whisper that curled around her, dragging her down into a pit of wantonness as she waited with baited breath for him to finish his sentence. She could hear the rasping pants of his breaths become deeper and more frantic, his body sliding against hers in distant sensuality. She began to realize that his movements were not for her pleasure, but his own.

"Punished?"

The single word dropped down on Bulma with the force of a cannon ball, crushing her with its weight. It was accompanied by the devastating warmth of Vegeta's essence spurting onto her bare back, mocking her with its presence.

Bulma sat beneath him, her mouth sagging open in disbelief. Had he just done what she thought he did? She blinked and the bed shifted as he moved away. She sat up slowly, turning to face him, her mind still drugged with passion and her body burning with need. Her wide eyes narrowed as she watched him tuck his sated flesh away in his pants, ignoring her as if she was nothing more than a five dollar hooker.

White hot fury rose up inside of her, and before a voice of reason could sound in her head she leapt on Vegeta with the vehemence of a wildcat. She unsheathed her claws, aiming for his eyes, screaming hellishly as her soft body collided with his hard one.

The air rushed from her lungs as she hit a solid wall, and before she had time to think she found herself flat on her back, her arms pinned above her head. She glared up at Vegeta's self-satisfied smirk, and she screeched in outrage. Vegeta's visage hardened, and he shifted his fists so he could release one hand to cup over her mouth, silencing her cries, while still holding her wrists prisoner.

His furious black eyes penetrated her skull, telling her on no uncertain terms that if she didn't shut up she was going to regret it. She stopped shrieking from behind his palm, but her icy eyes fried him with every passing second. Slowly, as if testing her resolve he removed his hand, watching her for any signs that she would start screaming. Bulma watched him retreat, her hot anger fading as icy rage settled in its place. How dare this man come into her room, take advantage of her need, and use her like a common whore. How dare he leave her aching with need.

"You fucking asshole," she hissed, and his smirk reappeared. His amusement only fueled her fury, and her entire body tensed with the need to disembowel him.

"What's the matter, slave? Feeling abused?" he purred sexily, and Bulma gritted her teeth in annoyance.

"Not in the least jerkoff," she spat in defiance. "Now get the fuck off of me, and out of my room so I can finish what you are so obvious not capable of completing."

Vegeta's eyes slit, and malice coiled in their depths. Bulma was undaunted, and she opened her mouth to spew more nasty slurs, but Vegeta was quicker. His hand whipped out to cup her jaw, his fingers pressing into the hollows of her cheeks.

"Listen up, slave," he rasped down at her. "You aren't to touch yourself or relieve your need in any manner. You are going to suffer until you come home where you belong. And don't think I won't know if you do get yourself off. I can smell it on you like cheap perfume."

His last sentenced stirred a whisper of interest in her. Were his senses really that honed?

"Do you understand me?" he finished in a harsh demanding tone.

She shook off his hand, fairly surprised that the let her. "Or what?" she spat.

"Or I will never touch you again." The threat was so simple, yet it hung in the air between them. How absurd, Bulma thought to herself. Most women would expect a more violent threat from a man like Vegeta, but his vow not to touch her was far more effective than a promise to beat her.

"Good riddance," she ground out, staring him in the eye without blinking.

A ghost of a smile whispered over Vegeta's lips, and a dark gleam shinned in his eyes that made her uneasy.

"We'll see," he replied, and before she knew what was happening there was a rush of air, and he was gone.

Bulma didn't bother to raise her head to look around her room, knowing that she would never see him. Instead she lay unmoving where he left her, staring at the vaulted ceiling of her hotel room.

Her body burned with heat, even more so after their confrontation. The zing of excitement of sex and fighting pumped through her veins until lower body fairly ached with the need to come. All it would take was a few seconds, and she would be relieved. Her hand twitched by her side, but it didn't move.

She stayed there, thinking long and hard about Vegeta's methods of persuasion. Obviously, in some twisted fashion he missed her or he wouldn't have taken the time to seek her out. He wanted her back as well or he wouldn't have gone through such lengths. Those thoughts alone warmed her, melting her icy rage.

A man as powerful as Vegeta could have forced her back. He could have used threats of violence against her or the people she loved. nHe was a clever man, and instead he had chosen a more sadistic path to get what he wanted, her total submission to his will.

He wanted to own her, but he wouldn't physically harm her. He was allowing her to choose what she wanted, leaving her alone to be crushed under the force of her own desires. Her greatest enemy was not the Saiyan Prince, but her traitorous body.

First, Vegeta had withheld his touch from her and now he withheld her pleasure. She wasn't sure which was worse. Her logical mind raged against the unfairness of it all. For the first time in her adult life she had found a man that was strong enough to satisfy her, but the cost was too high. She was not willing to sacrifice her inner self for a few hours of bliss. She would not allow herself to become someone else's property either in or out of the bedroom.

As her mind argued, her body burned and a small place in her heart ached. She had always been on top looking down. She had never been a part of the crowd, only their leader. When Vegeta wrapped his strong arms around her she felt something she had never felt before.

Acceptance.

With Vegeta she felt like she was part of something, not ahead of it or on top of it, but actually immersed in it. Surrounded by it. Comforted by it. Adored by it. Desired and wanted by it. The only problem was that she didn't know what _it_ was. It eluded her like a passing dream. It was real only in the moments that she closed her eyes, only to slip away under the harsh glare of reality.

She stared silently at the ceiling, lost in thought until the dawn crept in through the windows to comfort her, her hand completely unmoving by her side.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ. *smirk* I mean, after all it is a kid's show.

Big thanks to LisaB for editing this story and giving us a tasty lemony experience.

Chapter Six

Bulma was bone weary and aching for her bed. She hadn't slept for two days, and time seemed to have slowed to a complete halt at work. Beneath exhaustion and stress, her body was burning for release, but she had lain silently in her bed each night, unmoving and unfulfilled.

She sedately walked down the corridor towards her office while her assistant Amber trailed after her, outlining her appointments for the rest of the afternoon. She rubbed her brow as she opened the door to her office, her assistant right behind her. As she glanced up she felt all of her exhaustion flee as exhilarated panic took its place.

Bulma whirled around quickly, shoving Amber out the door, ignoring her indignant squawk, and her flying papers as she slammed the door in the girl's face. She locked the door, dormant instinct telling her that it was wise to do so. Bulma spun back around, her eyes glittering, and her previously pallid face flushed with anger.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" she screamed through clenched teeth, remembering almost too late that although her offices had thick walls, they were in no way sound proof.

Vegeta smirked at her from his seat behind her massive desk. He was twirling a pen in one hand while the other was in his lap.

"It's time for another lesson, slave," he purred, his heavy lidded eyes burning with lust.

"Are you insane?" Bulma exploded as she stomped around her desk. She came to wide-eyed halt when she noticed what his other hand was doing in his lap. He was wearing his training suit, and Bulma could tell that he had just recently come from his capsule. There was a slight sheen of sweat on his brow and his musky scent filled her senses. While he had waited for her he had lowered his tight fitting pants around his hips, and stroked himself to full arousal. His thick cock jutted up between his strong fingers and she could see just a hint of bronze skin from his lean thighs.

Her eyes darted back up to his feral features, her mouth gapping open. "Pervert!" she hissed, and she whipped her eyes back to the door to double-check that it was locked.

He laughed at her, his amusement at her shocked outraged obvious in his dark eyes. Bulma stilled as she watched him. She didn't think she had actually seen him really laugh before. Sure, he was great at mocking snickers, but a true laugh was unheard of.

The sound faded away, and the intensity returned to his eyes. He kept her gaze as his hand slid sensually down his length. Bulma couldn't control the rush of heat in her loins that made her sensitive flesh feel heavy and ripe. He spun the chair to the side so he faced her, his legs extending out in front of him.

"Get on your hands and knees, slave," he ordered, his hand never slowing.

Bulma glared at him, but unconsciously her tongue ran suggestively along her lower lip. She wanted nothing more than to taste him, to have that hard, thick length between her lips and on her tongue.

"I don't think so. I'm not playing your game. Stuff yourself back into your pants and get the hell out." She turned her back on him defiantly. It was more to remove her view of his cock than it was to annoy him. She just couldn't trust herself.

"That's too bad. I noticed that your assistant outside was a pretty girl. I've always had a thing for red heads." His taunting voice was silky, and Bulma was flooded with images of red hair bobbing in Vegeta's lap.

She whirled around, her hands on her hips and her checks flushed with anger. "If you want tail so bad, Vegeta then you are just going to have to find it outside of Capsule Corporation. I won't have you preying on my staff like some sex starved wolf."

As she spewed her tirade at him, she couldn't help but to glance down at his hand. The flame he had built in her two nights ago had never fully died, and it flared to life as she watched him. She had trained her traitorous body to respond to the sight of Vegeta stroking himself, and now she was hard pressed to turn her natural inclinations off.

Vegeta shrugged dismissively, his muscular shoulders rippling under his shirt. "I can do that. I'm sure that I can find a willing woman downtown, maybe even two." He grinned lecherously up at her, and Bulma blinked at the thought of Vegeta splitting his resources equally between two women. Hell, the man could probably satisfy more if he was willing to try.

His full lips turned down pensively, and his dark eyes brightened. "But I only like training one slave at a time. I won't have any time for you. I suppose you could go back to fishing around in the lawyer pool and snag yourself a nice, toothy shark."

He was mocking her lack of success on her last date. Not to mention the threat hung unspoken in the air again. Yes, he could find his entertainment elsewhere, easily it seemed, but she would be back to where she started. Recklessly dating unsuitable men, looking for one who could make her feel a fraction as good as she did with Vegeta. An impossible task, she was sure.

Worse, he wouldn't touch her again.

The room grew silent as Vegeta allowed her to contemplate her situation. She resented the Saiyan more than she thought possible. She wasn't a weak willed person, but he was bending her in ways that she didn't even know was possible. She should view him as an addiction that needed to be broken. After all she had quit smoking, how hard would it be to quit Vegeta?

His thick fingered hand slid up his hard shaft again, his thumb flicking over his tip to capture some glistening pre-cum. Her nipples hardened and amazingly her mouth flooded with salvia. If she didn't know better she would think that she was looking at a plate of flame broiled steak.

Prime, Grade A, Beefcake.

What was one little blow job? She had wanted to do that since she saw him lounging on his bed the first time through the camera. She had been so disappointed when he hadn't allowed her to taste him that hot afternoon. Her thighs quivered, and her knees grew weak. She licked her lips, already tasting the salty essence of him. Besides he was doing it all wrong. No lubrication. He was going to chaff himself like that . . . .

Vegeta watched the beautiful woman's internal struggle with hooded eyes. He knew that he was pushing his luck, but he thrived on the thrill. He didn't really want to seek out some other female to satisfy him. He wanted her ruby lips on him.

His entire body was taut with expectation as she weighed his words. If she called his bluff, he would be ass out and honor bound never to touch her again. He couldn't believe the amount of obsessive need that thought evoked in him. He knew that he was only using her for sex, and that he had no emotional ties to her whatsoever, but he didn't like the idea of being denied of what he considered to be his possession.

She was wild yet and still in the breaking stage, but once tamed she would make the perfect bed slave. He had already developed a taste for her body, for her spirit, and he wasn't willing to give her up so soon.

When she had left, he had been first amused by her defiance, then irritated. As the days progressed, his anger had simmered into a slow burn. She had just learned her first lesson: that she craved his touch. Then she had disregarded it and run from him. Now she needed to learn her second lesson: that she could not survive without it. He was going to become an addiction in her blood that was impossible to purge.

He wanted to crow with victory when he saw her body relent towards him, but he contained himself. She knelt down before him, and he watched with predatory intensity as she reached for his cock. He released his own grip as her slender fingers wrapped around him. Her hot breath feathered over his tip, and all thoughts of domination and submission flew from his brain when he felt her silky tongue slide against him.

He gripped the armrests of the plush chair, careful not to shatter the wood frame under the padding. His head fell back against the headrest, his tan throat flexing as he swallowed. Her mouth felt like paradise, hot and moist, erotic and sensual, fulfilling his baser animal needs.

Bulma nearly sighed in contentment when she finally sank her mouth around his thrusting cock. It tasted exactly how she expected it too, salty and feral, raw and primal, just like Vegeta. She worked her way down his length, testing the limits of her endurance by seeing how deep she could take him.

He hit the back of her throat and her gag reflex contracted. Belatedly she remembered to breathe through her nose and relax her muscles. She took him a little deeper, but ultimately he was too long for her. She withdrew slowly, swirling her tongue around the ridge of his crown, her blue eye peeking up under her bangs to glance at Vegeta.

His head was lolled back and his jaw tight with strain. She heard the sound of leather being scrapped by strong fingers and she briefly worried about the safety of her chair. She dipped her head again, sliding her lips and tongue down his shaft, imitating an exquisitely slow act of sex.

Vegeta's hips shifted and Bulma knew that he was struggling not to buck towards her. She teased him with her tongue, daring him to lose control and ravage her. She wanted to feel his lips on her throat, his hands on her breasts, his cock thrusting inside of her. She wanted to control him for a change.

He wound his fingers around her hair at the base of her skull, and Bulma mistakenly thought that he was urging her to a faster pace, but instead he pulled her away from her treat. She reared back, her ruby lips glistening with evidence of the pleasure she had wrought. She met Vegeta's black eyes defiantly as she wiped her mouth slowly on the back of her hand. He smirked in response, and her blue eyes glittered with lust.

He pulled her to her feet, and with one hand he swept her desk supplies to the floor, ignoring the loud crash. He hoisted her up on the desk with a powerful ease that left her panting. With one hand on her chest he pushed her back to lay prone on the desk while he rucked her skirt up around her hips.

Bulma almost groaned with despair when she realized that today of all days, she had chosen to wear nylons. She felt Vegeta's fingers slid along her inner thigh until he reached her waiting clit. His touch burned her to the core, and she was equally glad that she never wore panties with her nylons.

Suddenly his mouth was on her, his tongue lapping at her threw the sheer mesh of her stockings. She arched off the desk in surprise, spreading her arms across the mahogany expanse so her fingers could curl around the edges for support.

His tongue attacked her ferociously, and she moaned deeply in the back of her throat. Her smooth soled shoes kept sliding of the polished desk until finally Vegeta looped his arms under her thighs to support her. Distantly, she laughed at the fact that both she and Vegeta were still fully dressed.

A knock on the door choked off another rising moan in Bulma's throat. Her big blue eyes shot towards the door, but Vegeta ignored the interruption in true predatorial fashion. He already had his prey pinned, splayed and ready to eat. He wasn't letting her up anytime soon.

"Ms. Briefs, are you alright?" her assistant asked from behind the closed door. "I heard a crash."

If Bulma thought she could get away with it she would have kicked Vegeta. Her vindictive thoughts were swept away by the sound of rending fabric, and the suddenly cool air that invaded her damp clit. Before she had time to think, Vegeta's tongue was back, teasing her now naked flesh through the hole he had created in her nylons.

"Ms Briefs?" her assistant repeated, and Bulma swallowed to find her voice.

"Yes, yes. I'm fine. Please go back to your desk, and don't bother me again."

Bulma felt more than heard her assistant retreat, and she sighed in relief, but that was quickly turned into a keening moan as Vegeta sunk his fingers into her tight channel. She was so close she could taste it in the back of her throat. She arched towards him, her fingers stretching for his hair.

He stood up before she could reach him, and she watched as he wrapped his fingers around his thick cock to guide it inside of her. Her hand flew back to its earlier grip on the side of the desk, lifting her hips to meet him.

He slid inside of her completely with one thrust, filling her to the brim. She anchored her body the best that she could on the slick desk, reveling in the animalistic thrill of having him ram into her. He gathered up her hips to hold her closer and she felt the dam that held back the raging torrent of her climax crack.

And then there was nothing.

Vegeta heaved inside of her a few more times, falling forward to brace himself on the desk by her head. She opened her eyes to meet his mocking gaze, his cruel lips curling into a wicked smile. Bulma's mouth gaped, partly from stunned awe and partly from anger. She had never in her life met a man who could control his climax at will. She knew from previous experience that he could contain himself for hours, HOURS, but this was done purposefully. He made damn sure that she knew it. Until she came home, he would get the pleasure he wanted while she sat stewing in her own juices. Literally. Fast on the heels of that recognition came anger.

"No! No! NO!" The denial rose in pitch as her eyes narrowed, and her face flushed red. Without thinking she lashed out, pounding his muscular shoulders with her small fists as he loomed over her.

As she thrashed under him, she became aware of an out of place sound. Horror struck as she looked up to see Vegeta chuckling down at her, thoroughly amused by the tantrum she was throwing.

Once he saw that he had her attention, he stilled his mirth to speak to her. "Are you going to come back now?"

"NO!" she screamed in his face with all the rage that she had contained in her small body.

The entire time she had fought, Vegeta hadn't moved, but now he tangled his hands in her hair, holding her head still as he leaned his weight on his forearms. As he shifted Bulma became acutely aware that he was still lodged tightly inside of her, and she wasn't necessarily done with him yet.

She watched wide-eyed as his considering gaze wondered down over her face to rest on her lips. He lowered his mouth to hers, brushing his firm lips over her soft ones gently. She became as still as a hunted doe on a grassy plain, too afraid to scream, too excited to move.

His tongue slid across her lower lip, begging for entrance, and instinctively she parted to let him in. His tongue swept inside, not arrogantly, not demandingly, but sweetly tentative. He explored her depths, his tongue caressing her invitingly, coaxing her to play with him.

He had only kissed her once before, and that had been when she had asked him too. That kiss had been possessively dominant, branding her with his passion and marking her as his, but this was completely the opposite.

He wasn't controlling her or overwhelming her. He was begging her, pleading with her, loving her.

His hips slowly moved to the rhythm of his tongue, sliding forward ever so slightly to remind her that he was there. She felt the banked fires of her lust heat up again, and her blood boiled. He broke away from her mouth, his lips trailing along her jaw until his hot breath tickled her ear.

"Come home," he whispered, and her thighs tightened around him in response.

She pulled herself out of the spiral desire that he was dragging her into, trying desperately to regain herself. She knew that if she returned home she would cease to be Bulma Briefs, the woman on top. She would become a slave to the most dangerous man in Kami knew how many galaxies. As tempting as it felt, she was not ready to give herself away to the devil. Not when she still had the strength to fight.

He surged inside of her, knocking the breath out of her lungs. Her reply came in a pant between parted lips.

"No." Her heart stopped beating, and when he nuzzled her neck almost apologetically, the paralyzed muscle clenched.

He withdrew from her slowly, his eyes shielded from her. He stood above her, tucking himself in his pants as he looked down at her.

"That's too bad," and without another word, he turned on his heel and strode from the room, leaving her abandoned on her desk. She gasped at the ceiling for a moment before she slowly rolled to her side and slid off the desk to dejectedly look for her phone.

Amber, Bulma's assistant looked up as a virile male stepped unexpectedly out of her boss's office. He flashed her a purely sensual look of manly confidence as he strode down the hall, leaving her to watch the hypnotic ripple of his backside as he walked away.

A catlike grin appeared on Amber's face as the explanation for the crash she heard earlier stepped into the elevator to descend to the lobby. She was not at all surprised when Bulma buzzed her on the intercom, asking her to cancel the rest of her appointments for the day.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ.

Master of Desire, Slave to Lust

Chapter Seven

Bulma stared out into the sea of people who surrounded her. She felt alone, separated from the crowd, distant. Past the familiar faces of her peers she could see the paparazzi circling the edges of the party like hungry sharks looking for their next meal. They clutched their cameras to their chests, longing for the one photo that would make them famous. She grimaced and turned away, reaching for another glass of champagne to help quell the migraine that she felt nagging at the back of her brain.

She adjusted the strap to her black cocktail dress, carefully making sure that everything was in place. The last thing she needed was to end up the newest headline scandal because her clothes were in disarray. She didn't want to add her face to the list of celebrities that had _fallen out_ and earned themselves some quality news time. She found it distasteful that they felt they had to prance around in nearly nothing to get the attention they craved. She wanted to be noticed for her hard work and her genius, not because she had a killer body. She already knew she was gorgeous. She smiled smugly to herself as she patted her hair into place. She just didn't need it splashed on the front page of some rag for everyone to see.

Besides, as the CEO of a major, world-wide corporation, she was expected to maintain a certain veneer of imposing sophistication, something she had failed horribly at as a teenager. Several appearances of her naked body on the front pages of magazines because she was bathing naked in a stream while romping around the wilderness with Goku had taught her that. She was under constant surveillance, the hazard of her life. No matter how secluded she thought she was, there was always a predator lurking nearby.

She set her crystal flute down on the table, sighing deeply. She hated going to the numerous public fund raisers and elbow rubbing parties that she was required to attend. They were always draining, both on her pocket book and her patience. As she got older she could barely stand the superficial formalities that she was forced to contend with. Just once she wished she could go up to that bitch Betsy Wiese and tell her that the dress she was wearing was hideous. Instead she smiled until her face was painfully frozen and made small talk.

Bulma felt an odd tingle at the back of her neck that she couldn't rub away. She glanced around the crowded room, her pulse racing and her skin heating when she caught sight of the disturbance. Vegeta weaved through the crowd, his dark eyes centered only on her as he stalked closer. He moved gracefully, circling around the people as easily as a panther slipped through the jungle. He wore dark dress pants and a wine silk shirt that was open at the collar to display his bronze throat. Bulma licked her suddenly dry lips, and she saw more than one woman stop talking in mid-sentence to look his way. He ignored them all and watched only her.

Fear skittered up her spine, and she instantly knew what it felt like to be a rabbit that had been spotted by a wolf. Her eyes skimmed over the crowd as panic surged in her stomach. She couldn't allow a confrontation in front of all these people with Vegeta. The media would eat her alive.

Unnoticed, she slipped away to the back of the party, and through the double doors into the atrium. The humidity of the room hit her like a wave, and small trails of sweat dripped down between her shoulder blades. Thick jungle plants crawled up the walls, and lacy ferns reached out into the tiled pathways. Bulma darted into the foliage, inhaling the sweet smell of orchids in the heavy air.

Before she could find the exit, strong arms encircled her, pulling her back into a solid male chest. She stiffened, not out of fear, but out of dread.

"Please don't do this here," she pleaded.

"Why?" Vegeta husky voice rippled through her, and her body instantly heated with expectation.

"Because if I leave here looking ravished, the media will crucify me."

Vegeta chuckled in her ear. The raspy sound cocooned her in dark velvet, tantalizing her flesh and puckering her nipples under her gown. With a tug he led backwards to an unknown destination.

"Ravished. That's a woman's word. I preferred utterly fucked."

She swallowed hard, refusing to look behind her. Vegeta stopped, pulling her hips into his. She could feel the thickness of his arousal through the thin nylon of her dress, and her already rapidly beating heart began to race faster. He dipped his head to nuzzle the back of her neck, and his warm breath danced over her sensitive skin.

He slid his hands down her thighs, his fingers playing with the hem of her short skirt. His hands curled above her knees, dimpling her flesh beneath his fingers. Her dress was so sheer that it felt as though she wore nothing as she stood before him. Slowly, he sat down behind her, his breath tracing the curve of her spine. He pressed a hot kiss in the dip of her lower back as his fingers rode up her thighs, gliding over her smooth flesh.

Only Bulma's harsh panting could be heard in the room, along with the tinkling of a nearby fountain. She threw a panicked look at the French doors she had come through, visions of flashing cameras and microphones echoing in her mind.

"The doors," she gasped.

"Are locked."

Vegeta pulled her black silk thong down her slender thighs and she stepped out of them automatically. With strong hands at her hips he turned her to face him, tugging her down to straddle his lap. He sat on a wide marble bench, reclining against huge Grecian urn that was as wide as three men.

She braced her hands on his wide shoulders, her fingers curling into the folds of his silk shirt. She glanced over at the door once more, before looking down at him for reassurance. The steamy look in his black eyes, instantly heated her blood to the boiling point, and she forgot how to think.

He wrapped his arms around her slender body, slowly unzipping her dress from behind. The straps slid off her softly rounded shoulders and down her unbound breasts. He licked his lips, his mouth watering at the thought of tasting her creamy flesh. Even in the sultry climate of the hothouse her nipples hardened wantonly. A testament to how much she wanted him, no matter how much she denied it. He flattened the palms of his hands on her bare back, sliding them sensually towards the nape of her neck.

She reared back, her eyes wide with panic.

"No! Not the hair."

He pulled back, glaring up at her darkly. His roving hands paused at her shoulders, his fingers pressing deeply into her flesh.

"Please don't ruin my hair or makeup." She looked so alarmed that Vegeta slid his hands away from her neck, and down her back towards the bottom of her spine. She released a pent up breath, relaxing against him.

He nuzzled the underside of her chin, swiping her throbbing pulse with his tongue. He wanted to wrench her towards him, and kiss her red lips until she couldn't breathe, but her deep concern for her appearance stopped him.

"What is the matter with you, woman?" he growled against her neck, sending fits of shuddering pleasure through her.

"You don't understand. As the head of Capsule Corporation, I am expected to maintain a certain amount of decorum at all times. If I walk out of this room with my lipstick smeared and my hair mussed I'll end up on the front page of every news magazine and third class rag in the world. I can practically read the headlines. `Bulma Briefs indulges in brief tryst while a few hundred of her richest peers stand nearby.'

As if on queue a loud burst of laughter was heard from the ballroom and Bulma stiffened in his arms. Vegeta huffed discontentedly, his big hand cupping her breast as he did so. He knew what it meant to cultivate appearances. While on Frieza's ship, one wrong rumor could have killed him. Her situation wasn't nearly as dire, but he understood what she was trying to tell him.

"You worry too much, woman. No one will find out." He flicked his thumb over her nipple, smiling when she shuddered in response.

"Find out what? That I'm a pervert? That I like playing slave girl with an egotistical alien?"

Vegeta smiled against her skin at her absentminded confession that she liked what he did to her. He lifted her up, pressing his mouth against her breasts, lathering them with kisses. She moaned and arched her back while she dug her fingers into his thick hair. Whenever he touched her it felt like sparks of fire dancing down her nerve endings, and when he kissed her it was like fireworks going off in her mind. She didn't know how much longer she could go on fooling herself. She couldn't imagine a life without his burning touch, a life without him.

Vegeta followed the curve of her naked spine, reveling in the feel of her satiny skin. She felt finer than any of the expensive fabrics he had been swaddled in as a child, finer than anything he had ever touched in his life. He reached her gown that was bunched around her waist, and he pulled it out of the way so he could cup her bare cheek. He could feel the press of her thighs on either side of his, and he couldn't stop the surge of need that thickened his already pulsing shaft.

He lifted her up effortlessly to free his hard cock from the confines of his human clothes, while still wallowing in the bounty of her breasts. Bulma moaned and rubbed herself against him like a kitten demanding to be petted until she purred. He slowly lowered her down onto him, barely containing his groan of satisfaction behind tightly clenched teeth. She was still tense, expecting someone to walk in on them at any moment, but a few well placed kisses on her sensitive breasts, and the brush of his fingers on her clit warmed her body to him.

Bulma wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders, resting her head under his chin trustingly. He couldn't stop himself from returning her embrace, and held her tightly against his hard chest. Her harsh breathing rang loudly in his ears, brushing his sensitive lobes and making his spine tingle. They clung to each other so completely that he could barely slide her up his shaft so he could thrust into her again.

"I won't be your slave Vegeta. I can't risk the scandal," she breathed shakily, her eyes rolling back from the sensation of pleasure he was building inside of her. She was struggling to contain herself, unwilling to be disappointed yet again.

Vegeta fought to string his thoughts together. He was hard pressed to remember that he was there to punish her, to teach her a lesson in obedience. All he wanted was to close his eyes and forget everything. To block out every bad memory he ever had, and only feel the wet, silken glide of her body over his.

"Why do you worry so much about other people? In the bedroom there is only you and I. What you are outside that room doesn't matter to me. You can still go on being a bitch in the boardroom and a tyrant in the lab. That doesn't have to change, but when I fuck you, you will belong to only me."

He lifted his hips accentuating his ownership with every thrust of his thick, demanding flesh inside of her body. He wanted to brand her-to mark his as his inside and out.

"I can't lose myself." The riot of pleasure was building inside of her washing her thoughts away in a tidal wave of bliss. She spoke to not only Vegeta, but to herself. She couldn't allow herself to be swept away by him once again.

"Would you be losing yourself or finding yourself?" Vegeta buried his face between her breasts, licking the soft skin that he found there. He wanted her to realize that when she was with him, she was truest to herself. He brought out the real woman inside of her, not the genius, the CEO or the beauty queen. When she was with him, her animal nature came to the forefront-a creature that reveled in her sexuality, and recognized him as her alpha male.

His hands tightened her bottom, lightly bruising the soft flesh. She responded by clenching her thighs around him, riding him as though she owned him. The animal inside of him stirred, and he ached to claim dominance over her. He almost didn't know if he had the will to stop this time before she came. He realized now that he craved the feeling of her body rippling around him in the throes of ecstasy.

"How can I risk everything for a small bit of pleasure?" Her head fell back in abandon, and a soft sob rose up in her throat.

"The pleasure that I could give you would fulfill you like no other. Everything that I have shown you so far is but a fraction of my power. Come back with me, and let me show you what heaven looks like to mortal eyes," Vegeta tempted seductively, praying for the first time in his meager life that she would acquiesce to him.

His promise to her was not an idle one. If she gave herself to him, then she would know ultimate pleasure at his hands. And for the first time, he would be able to lose himself. Her scent alone, the aroma of life, was enough to drown out the screams of the dead that echoed in the back of his mind.

"Why are you doing this to me, Vegeta?"

"Doing what?" His strong hands slid up her pale back that was slick from her sweat. The moisture in the air coated her, and her excitement oozed from her pores. His fingers teased the fine fringe of hair that had fallen lose from her twist and clung to the back of her neck. He was tempted to lay her back and ravage her like she said. He wanted to rip the pins from her hair and run his fingers through it as it fell down around her pale shoulders.

"Destroying me," she sobbed desperately, the pleasure of his touch and the pain of his manipulations tearing at her heart and soul.

Vegeta stilled against her, feeling the vibrations of her sorrow at his very core. Her entire body clenched with searing need and cried with agonizing sadness.

He was devastated by her words. He sought to free her from the bonds of her own making, to show her the freedom of pleasure. True, he wanted sear his touch onto her flesh and carve his name on her soul. He wanted to possess her as no other had before him, but he did not seek to destroy her. Her vitality was what he found so exciting about her.

"If that's how you see it, then I really am wasting my time with you." Slowly Vegeta untangled himself from her body, setting her gently away from him on the stone bench. She crumpled on the cool rock, unable to look up at the man who tore her apart from the inside out. He stood over her for a few moments, the darkness of his thoughts reflecting on his handsome face. Without a word he turned on his heel and strode away, leaving her desolate and alone.

Bulma struggled to keep her tears trapped behind her lids as she stared into the foliage around her. Slowly she pulled her gown back up her body, twisting her arms behind her to zip up the back. She hunted around for her missing panties, sighing heavily when she couldn't find them. For all she knew they could be dangling from a tree limb twenty feet in the air.

She smoothed her dress down around her hips and squared her shoulders. She ached between her thighs and she felt empty both there and in her heart. She wished that she could be someone else. For the first time in her life she wished that she wasn't Bulma Briefs, the richest, smartest girl in the world. She wanted to be the girl on the bottom, the one who could go out with her girlfriends, and make love to whomever she wanted. She wanted to be normal.

She paused in front of a sweet smelling orchid, its rich violet color drawing her eye. She stared deeply at its center as her thoughts swirled in her head. She was who she was. There was no changing that, but she also had only one life to live. She had to stop living that life for the people around her and start living it for herself. When she was a teenager she had selfishly romped around the world, ignoring her responsibilities to her family, but she had never been as happy as she had been then.

As a grown woman, she couldn't ignore those responsibilities, but there was no reason why she couldn't balance them with her own needs. Yes, if people found out that she enjoyed a wild sex life there would be talk, but it would hardly ruin her. After all, she was Bulma Briefs, the richest, smartest girl in the world, and she always landed on top.

A large Cheshire cat grin spread on her beautiful face as she strode confidently from the room. Her hips swung seductively as she entered the crowd of her peers. Without a word she weaved her way through them, ignoring numerous hails as she made her way to the coat check. She had someplace to be, and she knew that would be well worth the wait.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ

Many thanks to LisaB for editing.

Chapter Eight

Bulma's trembling fingers closed around the door knob to her room. Her breath caught in her throat as the cool metal seared her hand. Just on the other side of the thin wood frame laid her fate-a predator that would either devour her whole or set her free.

A strangled sigh rattled passed her lips as she forced it out of her throat. With a determined set to her shoulders she twisted the knob and pushed open the door.

The room was dark, silent, but comfortable. She relaxed her shoulders, entering the room with ease. This was her domain, her sanctuary. There was no reason to be afraid. Her soft uneasy laugh echoed in the empty room as she turned to close the door.

Her hair was piled high on top of her head in a mass of shiny, blue curls. A whisper of air caressed the back of her bare neck. Trepidation and anticipation collided together in the pit of her stomach. The small hairs on her neck stood up as a strong possessive hand encircled her upper arm, spinning her around.

A man stood before her, his face hidden in shadows. The pale moon rose behind him, framed by the sheer white curtains that blew lazily at the balcony doors. The moonlight outlined his wide, powerful shoulders, revealing bronze skin.

Bulma saw a flash of white fangs mocking her from the shadow of the man's face. The same hand that held her pushed her away, pinning her against the door. The cool wood felt like hot steel against her naked back. Suddenly the thin straps of her dress that she had trusted to hold in front of thousands of people felt flimsy and inadequate.

His hand slid down her arm, curling around her wrist. His empty hand darted out to snatch other wrist in an identical hold. He raised her hands slowly above her head, stepping forward to trap her. She was held by unbreakable bonds, and it was futile to fight against them.

Vegeta's grim face appeared from the shadows, his piercing, raven eyes drilling into her, scrying her soul.

She knew that his eyes were his most frightening feature. His aristocratic face was merciless, his lips mocking, his laugh chilling, but it was his eyes that everyone feared. When his opponent stared into their soulless depths they saw death, retribution and hate. But to Bulma they were beautiful. She knew that when he stared at her, he only saw her, not her wealth or stature, only her. A woman, nothing else. Inside the darkness she saw a bonfire that wasn't lit by hate, but by lust. Lust for her, and that made her feel powerful, invincible even.

She took a deep breath, her skin nearly sizzling when the tips of her already crowning breasts brushed his chest. A knowing smile began to peak at the corners of Vegeta's smooth lips. Blood pounded in Bulma's ears, weakening her knees.

Vegeta trapped her wrists in one big fist, lowering his other hand to toy with the straps of her dress.

"You came back."

It wasn't a question, it was a statement. A statement of dominance. The very words branded her as his . . . only his and no one else's. Vegeta's husky voice caressed her bare skin, sending shivers down her spine. It was all she could do to nod in agreement.

"Then you accept this. Us."

When Vegeta said `us' it felt like the world shook beneath her feet. The word struck her square in the chest, burrowing its way through the skin to embed itself in her heart.

She tipped her head forward, in the barest gesture of acceptance. Her head felt heavy, her neck boneless. She could only move because he asked it of her. No, demanded it of her.

The sheer heat, mingled with the sensual promises that lit his eyes set her afire. She ceased to breathe, the desire to inhale inconsequential next to her desire for him.

She didn't need to respond. Vegeta watched as the black pupils of her eyes dilated with excitement, leaving only the thinnest band of blue.

Bulma felt the tiniest tug on her dress; it was so subtle that if she wasn't so hyper-sensitive at the moment she wouldn't have noticed it. She dropped her astonished eyes just in time to see Vegeta move his hand to her other strap.

"I'm going to make you come, without even touching you."

Bulma's eyes flew up to his, panic thrumming through her veins. She couldn't go through that again. She needed him to touch her, to spread his fingers across her naked skin, to lay his body next to hers. Her attention was so completely caught by his words she didn't notice as her dress slide down her hips to pool at her feet.

She opened her mouth to protest, her desire practically spilling from her lips.

"Shush. You will be far from untouched by the end of the night."

Vegeta cupped her face, his flesh so close to hers she could feel his heat. He traced the pads of his thumbs over her upper lip, never quite touching her. The intensity of his presence, the sensation of his nearness thrilled her.

Power danced over her skin, pressing on her with invisible weight. Her lips parted, her breathing shallow. He had released her hands, but she kept them above her head, knowing instinctively that she was far from free.

She was vulnerable; her body arched away from the wall, awaiting his touch. Thoughts of what he could do to her ran rampant in her mind, spreading warmth through her veins, igniting liquid pools of pleasure at the bottom of her belly. She pressed her thighs together, almost embarrassed at how excited she was.

Vegeta shifted his hands, tracing his thumbs over her finely arched brows. He feathered over her eyes, barely grazing her lashes. Her eyes fluttered closed as she allowed herself to drift into the moment, existing in a real life fantasy.

"I promised you heaven," Vegeta whispered in her ear, curling her toes. Briefly Bulma surfaced from her haze of delight, realizing she was completely naked except for her black high heels and gold jewelry. She should feel exposed, instead she felt beautiful and enticing.

"Heaven isn't white, fluffy clouds and pink cherry blossoms blowing in the breeze."

As he spoke his mouth moved over hers, his breath caressing her lips. He was so close, yet he left her untouched. When he moved, she felt it. When he spoke, the words vibrated inside of her. Sensation massaged her lips, parting them, worshiping her mouth. Lightning sparkled along her teeth, tingling her tongue and electrifying her body.

"Its lips and teeth. Wet kisses and hot breath."

He moved down, under her chin, along the throbbing pulse in her neck. She felt it when he bared his teeth, a shift of air, a kiss of breath.

"Heaven and hell aren't other worlds. It's what we make of it right here, right now."

His hands framed her breasts, his thumbs teasing the hard crowns of her nipples. She arched, pressing herself towards him, aching for his touch, overwhelmed by his presence. It was his aura she felt on her skin, caressing her body, poring over her like liquid heat.

His words rang inside her like the chime of church bells. A man such as he couldn't believe in heaven or hell, to do so would be to believe in the total desecration of his soul. Hell for him had been daily life, to believe that there was something worse waiting for him beyond this mortal coil would have made life unbearable.

"Heaven is wanting, needing. Aching flesh and heaving bodies. It's sweat and sweetness all in one breath."

It wasn't so hard for her to understand Vegeta's need to make his own heaven. If he believed that hell existed here, with him, then heaven should too.

Vegeta fell to his knees, his hands braced beside her hips, his tongue only a whisper away from her belly button. His aura snapped, raising the fine hairs on her body. It felt like she was caught in a tumultuous summer storm as Vegeta's power danced over her skin.

Bulma slit her eyes. Her once dark room was now bathed in a sparkling light that was deep blue one second and nearly white the next. It washed over her in a sultry wave, creating a timeless ambiance.

Vegeta's head dipped, and her thighs parted on their own accord. The evidence of her wantonness was now free to coat her inner thighs.

"Heaven is one little death after another."

His hot breath pored over her already blossoming bud, sending tremors over her entire body. Her head fell back, her eyes staring sightlessly towards the ceiling. Her fast, shallow breaths became long, gulping pants as she fought to coax air into her shrinking lungs.

Vegeta licked his lips calling forth a surge of ki that arced from his mouth, unerring finding her most sensitive flesh.

Bulma's orgasm was instantaneous. A shocked scream broke passed her lips echoing through the room. Her body arched away from the wall, and her knees began to buckle.

"Keep standing," Vegeta ordered, piercing the haze of her pleasure.

"I can't," she gasped.

"You must."

Her hands fell from above, finding purchase on his wrists that where braced on either side of her hips. Her legs crumbled, but she barely remained standing.

The pleasure was so intense that for a split second she thought that she might die. All the power that had soaked in through her pores now burst forth, tantalizing every nerve ending in her body.

As it ebbed away, she could no longer hold herself up. She collapsed, unafraid of falling. Vegeta gathered her up against his chest, draping her thighs over his. He remained kneeling, his thick hardness thrusting up between them.

The feel of his body against hers was Bulma's idea of heaven. He felt so strong and warm. Undefeatable and unbreakable. When he wrapped his arms around her, she knew that no power in the universe could pry her away. She was safe, protected and cherished by her master. The only man to see her as she truly was.

"Say it," Vegeta whispered in her ear. Bulma sunk deeper into him, melting her body over his. She couldn't deny him, she didn't want to.

"Master," she replied with a breathy sigh.

"Again," he demanded

"Master," she whispered against his cheek. "Master," she muttered against his lips. "Master," she spoke into his mouth as he devoured her with a kiss.

In the boardroom, she was all powerful. In the ballroom, she was a dazzling beauty. She dominated life and everything in it, but it was in her bedroom that she felt most secure. Power could be taken, beauty would fade, but the emotion Vegeta evoked inside of her would last a lifetime. In his arms her power was stripped, her beauty was nondescript. All that remained was her, and it was her that he worshiped.

Vegeta might lay her back and demand that she call him master, but his actions spoke louder than her softly spoken whisper. His passion in pursuing her, his commitment to possess her, his unyielding dominance said one thing: he wanted her, and only her. No other woman would do. He might threaten to leave, or deny her his touch, but in the end, it was her that he laid down beside, it was her that he kissed.

Vegeta's tongue thrust inside her mouth as his hands found their way to the underside of her thighs. He cupped her cheeks in his big hands, lifting her up effortlessly. He maneuvered her without breaking their kiss, lowering her onto his thrusting cock.

She slid down this thickness with ease, her already slick passage convulsing around him with pleasure. She wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders, her fingers thrusting into his thick hair at his nape. She pressed her body closer to his, flattening her soft breasts against his solid chest. She deepened their kiss, drinking in his essence. His arms tightened around her as if he were loathed to let her go.

He thrust into her, and she broke away, moaning. She tried to catch her breath, but it hissed away with every thrust of his hips. She panted against his neck, her hot breath feathering against his sweat-slicked skin.

His hand dove into her tangled hair, his fingers cupping the back of her skull. He angled her head up so he could peer down at her. His raven black eyes pierced her to the core, driving deep into her heart.

"You're mine." His words laid claim to her like a brand, a burning caress that covered her body. She shivered under his gaze, and goose bumps skittered down her arms.

Acceptance of his claim steeled her spine, chasing away her fear and doubt. She had run away for this very reason. She wasn't a woman to be owned; she wasn't a slave. She was Bulma Briefs, the woman on top. But in the end, she had returned for the very same reason. Being owned by Vegeta meant owning him in return. In the bedroom he gave her what she needed, and she was never going to give that up.

"Forever."

Vegeta must have read the possession in her eyes for his own burned hot at her declaration. Her single word bound them together. Master and slave, male and female, lovers forever.

He gripped her tighter, thrusting into her with renewed vigor. Bulma's head tipped back and behind her eye lids the world turned blue as Vegeta's ki illuminated the room. Something warm gathered at the junction of their bodies as blue lightening danced along their skin.

Bulma could hear the crackle of ki in the air, and hot flashes kissed her everywhere. The warmth built, a hot tight ball that was pressing against her insides. Vegeta's chest rumbled, his excited growl mingling in the air.

All at once the ball exploded, and a shower of ki sped through her veins, intensifying her pleasure, exhilarating her. Her eyes shot open at the shock of so much ecstasy. She watched mindlessly as blue lightning danced with dark shadows on her ceiling.

The light faded, and the pleasure passed. They melted together onto the floor, lying side by side. Vegeta breathed heavily through his nose, vainly trying to hide the intensity of emotion their climax had caused. Bulma had no such problem and panted loudly. After a few moments her hand crept over to his, and she gently intertwined their fingers. She remained still, afraid that he would toss her hand away, but he remained beside her, his hand gently folded with hers.

Vegeta was right, this was heaven.

The End


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